


On Silver Wings

by greenmage128



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ancient History, M/M, Mesopotamia, Origin Story, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel's garrison of Watchers is assigned to guard Sumer in light of recent shake-ups in Heaven, but there's one thing their Father neglected to mention—the coming of the Deluge, the Great Flood, though the messenger He sends in anticipation of the disaster might have bigger ramifications than even He intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Scapegoat

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my latest headfirst dive into insanity, this one yet again courtesy of [Manda](http://monoxidegirl.tumblr.com), who got me hooked on this ship in the first place, and then I ran a frakking marathon with it. Basically this fic is my attempt to do a couple of things, other than shamelessly throw biblical stories and ancient myth into a blender for the sake of a relationship for two TV show characters that never even met. 1) Put down Gadreel's story and 2) make it canon compliant. Because the whole Eden thing doesn't really jive with the history SPN has set up for itself. ("Don't step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish." Garden of Eden =/= evolution, at least in my opinion.) There's actually a few more endgame goals tucked in here, but I'm gonna politely keep those hidden for later. ;D Enjoy, guys!
> 
> And as I did with Soul Men, I'll be adding more characters to the tags as they appear. Can't go spoiling everything out of the gate, now can I?

Gadreel slunk along a back alley in Bad-tibira, out of human sight. He was following a man who he suspected was part of a thieves guild based in the city and had been causing havoc here, in Uruk, and even as far south as Larsa. While it wasn’t his garrison’s normal business, Gadreel suspected that the increase in crime was more than simple human mischief, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

The man turned a corner, and as Gadreel rounded it himself, he found the man gone. There were no immediate doorways, no holes in the mud brick large enough for him to slip through, and there were too many people in the inner city for Gadreel to discern just one man. He should’ve just given up the chase, but he’d put in far too much time into this mission—one even his garrison commander Ananiel was skeptical of—to walk away without answers.

His vessel had grown up in this city in dirty, cramped back streets like this one, so Gadreel tapped into that knowledge, hoping for something that would be helpful, a hidden door or a secret alley or a password to give to a local shopkeeper.

 _Look for Nergal’s symbol_ , his vessel said.

That… wasn’t quite the help Gadreel had been seeking. The natures and symbols of each of the pagan gods varied from city to city, and he had only the vaguest notion of how Nergal was depicted here, far away from Gudua, the center of the pagan’s cult.

From the corner of his eye, Gadreel spotted an unusual carving on a wall, a lion head atop a mace, wreathed in flame. _That would be it, in case you were wondering_ , was the haughty response from his vessel. Gadreel shoved him back into a corner of his own mind with a glare and a very small word of gratitude.

Standing directly in front of the symbol allowed him to see a crack in the mud brick that was hidden from any other angle. How the thief had slipped into it was another mystery, but before Gadreel could attempt it himself, Ananiel’s voice rang out over the garrison channel, calm despite the urgency of her words.

“Rogue spotted in Nippur! All hands to me!”

Gadreel was in the air before he even realized what he was doing. He headed northwest, towards the center of the Shinar plain. Sumer, some called it, though the populace themselves had yet to come to a consensus on anything, let alone what to call their land between the two rivers.

The battle between the two angels was evident before Gadreel had even passed over Isin, situated south across the bank of the Euphrates from Nippur. Their Graces were brighter than even the midday sun, the Grace of Ananiel’s opponent bearing a slight golden hue, and Gadreel only knew of one angel fitting that description.

“Azazel.” Gadreel felt a different, though familiar, Grace brush against the tips of his wings. “We should’ve known the first traitor would be him.”

He glanced sidelong at his brother. “Easy, Bartholomew. We don’t yet know the situation.”

Bartholomew scoffed. “This is not a time for questions. We have to deal with any dissenters quickly, unless you want Heaven to be torn apart from within?”

Like the way the archangels were dealing with Lucifer’s dissent? Gadreel squashed the thought as soon as it came. If Father (and, by extension, Michael) believed that Lucifer would return and gave no orders otherwise, it was not their place to make hasty judgments. “Of course not,” he said so Bartholomew could hear him, shaking his head. “But we cannot—”

“Then shut up and fight. Michael didn’t assign us here to be diplomats,” his brother said, surging past him and on to Nippur.

With a sigh and a heavier heart, Gadreel followed. As they approached, Hester, Ananiel’s second, stopped them at the city walls. Behind her Gadreel could see Ananiel and Azazel atop the ziggurat, a shrine dedicated to the pagan Enlil. Sacrilege upon sacrilege. It was fitting.

“Where’s Abner?” Hester asked, her stern gaze fixed on Gadreel.

Answering her was difficult even without Bartholomew giving him the dirtiest look his vessel’s boyish face could manage, but Gadreel did his best to defend his partner. “He’s still on patrol in the south, though I wouldn’t recall him just yet. Who knows what Azazel might have planned if we focus all of our attention here?”

Hester narrowed her eyes but after a moment nodded in agreement. “True enough. He is one of the cleverest seraphim, in or out of Lucifer’s choir. We should call Ezekiel’s unit in Kemet for assistance.”

“We can’t afford to wait for them,” Bartholomew said, fluttering around them, restlessness emanating from his Grace. “Or for Abner, the coward. Ananiel needs us now.”

Neither of them moved to argue that, though guilt gnawed at Gadreel, payment for his silence, not that Bartholomew was wrong. “However, we’re no use to anyone dead, and rushing in without backup or a plan will get us just that.”

As Bartholomew went to reply, the light behind him got brighter—another angel had joined the fray. Hester turned, wings stilling as she surveyed the scene.

“Inias! What in Father’s name is he doing?” she said before dropping into a dive to join the fight.

Gadreel and Bartholomew followed her, their differences of opinion forgotten in light of their brother’s peril. As they approached, Azazel knocked Hester and Inias back with a wave of force, his main attention focused on matching blades with Ananiel. Bartholomew took up their place, slashing wildly at the seraph’s wings, while Gadreel helped up his brother and sister.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, though taking a quick look at Inias made the question a ridiculous one.

“I’m fine,” was the answer of both Inias and Hester, though even she had to raise an eyebrow at Inias’ affirmation.

The younger angel bore a deep cut that zigzagged across his chest, the wound weeping ichor at an alarming rate. Gadreel raised a hand to heal him, but Inias waved him off, voice weak. “No, don’t waste your energy. We need to stop Azazel first.”

With a nod Hester returned to the fight. Gadreel lingered, not missing how Inias wavered on his feet and couldn’t keep his eyes focused. “Your Grace has been damaged. You don’t expect me to just let you—”

“Yes.” Inias shoved at him, hissing with the effort. “Our commander needs you more than I. One of Raphael’s healers will see to me when this is over, and I’ll be just fine. Now go.”

There was a conviction in the younger angel’s voice, one that Gadreel didn’t dare trespass, so he obeyed. Instead of flying into the battle, he went in the opposite direction, waiting until he felt more than heard Azazel taunt his companions with his supposed cowardice. He kept a close eye on the fight, making an arc around the city, until he was behind it and out of Azazel’s sight. By then the seraph had Hester and Bartholomew pinned, gloating over them while he traded blows with Ananiel, who for her part stood firm against the tumultuous tide of battle, the rock in the storm but not nearly so inflexible.

Ananiel gave Gadreel the barest of glances before throwing her reserves of strength at Azazel, kicking him to the ground, and Gadreel seized the opportunity provided him. He wasn’t a fast flier, nor a graceful one, but strength he had; he used the momentum from his flight to bear down on Azazel, the force enough to combat the seraph’s attempts to divert him. Too late Azazel tried to move out of the path, only to be met with Gadreel’s blade plunging into one of his primary wings, pinning him to the ground. 

“Couldn’t do it by yourself, could you, little Ananiel?” Azazel asked with a strained laugh. “I would expect nothing less from one of Michael’s whelps.” 

“Well I doubt you’ve noticed, but we angels tend to work better together,” Ananiel said, moving to stand over Azazel, blade gleaming in her hand. 

The seraph gave her a look, somehow condescending despite his helpless position. “How trite, and how very like the sheep the archangels want you to be.”

During the conversation Bartholomew had managed to find his feet, and in a flash he was kneeling by Azazel, pressing his blade hard enough into the seraph’s free wing to draw ichor. “Watch your words, traitor. You don’t get to speak of the archangels, not after the things you’ve done.” 

“Humans reveling in a little chaos is hardly something you can blame on me.” Azazel said, his mouth twisted into a grin that had Gadreel’s stomach turning.

He must not have been alone in that feeling, because Ananiel’s voice wavered for the first time as she replied, “Not like this. You corrupted these people, though why remains a mystery.”

Azazel gave a short bark of a laugh, all derision and no amusement. “Corrupt them? There was nothing to corrupt, sister.” He spat out the word, put an edge on it like Gadreel had never before heard, those unsettling gold-yellow eyes of his narrowed into slits. “They’re flawed, short-sighted creatures. The chaos here in Nippur was bound to happen eventually, no divine intervention necessary. It was only a matter of time.”

Hester crossed her arms, one wing curling around Ananiel, just enough so that their commander wouldn’t notice. “Much like your imminent betrayal, it would seem.”

“Enough.” Ananiel bent down until her face was less than a foot from the seraph’s. “We will leave you to Heaven’s judgment. I can’t imagine they’ll show you any more mercy than you showed these humans.” With that, she sunk her blade lengthwise into Azazel’s abdomen, knocking him unconscious.

Bartholomew withdrew the blades from the seraph’s primary wings, and he and Hester hauled him to his feet, each restraining one half of Azazel’s body with their Grace. “He really shouldn’t have taunted a Watcher who trained as an interrogator.”

Ananiel shot him a look. “And you shouldn’t taunt a brother who outranks you, even if he’s incapacitated.” She turned to Gadreel. “We’ll take him to Michael and Inias to Raphael. Go to Shuruppak and wait for Abner, then split the patrol routes between you until we return. Now is not the time to let down our guard, we don’t know how far this one’s influence has spread, and we might have to be watchful for more than just angels.”

A dark cloud passed over her face at those words, Azazel’s words ringing in all their ears now; Gadreel wouldn’t let it take hold. While they could not relax, there was also no room for doubt in their mission. He laid a hand on her shoulder, trying to give her what reassurance he could. “Of course. Be careful.”

That seemed to break the spell, even if just for the moment, and a small smile crossed Ananiel’s face. “And you, doubly so. For now, you and Abner are our first line of defense here. We’re counting on you.” As she lifted Inias into her arms, she spoke again, this time the words easing out from her Grace to his. _Father chose every Watcher Himself, each of us for a reason, even if we don’t understand it. Never forget that._

With that his comrades took wing, heading with due haste toward the gates of Heaven. Gadreel kept his eyes on them to the last, until they crossed the dimensional border.

Alone atop the ziggurat, he now had an unobstructed view of the city, and the picture Azazel painted became clear. People went about their normal lives, ignorant of the conflict that had occurred above them minutes before, but there was something else, something new. The thieves guild in Bad-tibira looked like child’s play compared to the amount of chaos that wove its way through Nippur, the shrine of Enlil beneath his feet in particular emanating an unprecedented darkness. What had the seraph done?

Gadreel shook his head and made for Shuruppak.


	2. Deluged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gadreel returns to Shuruppak, and Abner arrives with news of a catastrophe in the works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've arrived at Chapter Two! That always bodes well for a story. And it looks like this here epic will update on Wednesdays, like Soul Men before it (though hopefully with a bit more consistency in that regard).

Shuruppak was a straight flight southeast from Nippur, situated right on the northern bank of the Euphrates. The location had given way to a quiet, prosperous village that withstood and made good use of the annual floods the river sent its way and in doing so had gained a reputation for being something of a paradise. Having lived in actual Paradise, Gadreel was inclined to agree with human opinion.

He landed in a field outside the village, where his vessel’s flock grazed, his sudden appearance obscured by the tall palm trees that shaded the nearby crops of wheat and barley. The villagers weren’t likely to notice his absence, but it never hurt to take precautions.

Gadreel sighed and settled down in his regular spot beneath a particularly healthy palm tree. His satchel of provisions remained untouched, which meant that Abner had yet to return from his patrol. What could be keeping him?

One of the sheep wandered over to him. It gave a plaintive bleat and butted its head against Gadreel’s knee in want of attention.

He looked down and smiled, laughing a little despite the heaviness in his heart. “Missed me, did you?”

The sheep bleated again, which Gadreel took as a yes. He scratched the animal behind the ears, reveling in the wool that was far softer than it should’ve been. Not that he had a hand in that, or the fact that these sheep bore the most sought-after wool in all of Sumer. Oh no, not at all.

All right, perhaps he was to blame.

His garrison had been based in Shuruppak for ten years, on guard for any unusual activity since Lucifer had made his departure from Heaven clear. Their mission, at its core, was to guard the humans in this area, and while Gadreel knew he was a bit too close to the situation to be an objective judge, Azazel’s appearance and apparent corruption of the citizens of Nippur was the first time he could recall anything of the kind happening within Sumer’s borders, which perhaps was why all of it felt so wrong. The fact that it was one of their brothers didn’t help matters.

“Dumuzi!”

The shout came from a gaggle of children playing in the shade between the chickpea and lentil crops, most of them between the ages of seven and ten, but they were lead by a girl of a mere eight years of age. She was the granddaughter of the village’s _lugal_ —their king—and she very much had inherited her forefathers’ charisma and charm. Gadreel found himself smiling back, acknowledging them with a little wave and a nod, their joy in their innocence lifting his spirits in a way that little else in this realm could.

Gadreel let himself relax, just a little, and retrieved a date cake from the satchel. He didn’t need it, but he’d come to enjoy the occasional bit of human food, which came in handy when Gadreel’s vessel was forced into social engagements, and he didn’t want to break the illusion. The cake was made with honey to preserve and flavor it, and the light sweetness seemed to satisfy a deep, unspoken need in his stomach, one that went beyond hunger. Gadreel was tempted to have another, but as he reached for it he felt another angel land beside him. 

It was Abner, looking as though he’d flown round the world twice. His friend collapsed on the ground next to him and snatched up the very date cake Gadreel had been eyeing. 

“Good to see you too, brother,” Gadreel said, though he was smiling. 

Abner paused but after a moment resumed devouring the cake. “Sorry,” he said, mouth full of food. “I heard something happened in Nippur, so I went there, but you were already gone, and I just flew your whole patrol looking for you.” He looked up at Gadreel, swallowing on the last crumbs. “What happened, and where is the garrison? I couldn’t sense them anywhere.” 

“Your story first.” Gadreel laid a hand on Abner’s shoulder. “You look troubled.” 

His friend nodded. “While on my patrol, I encountered two angels near Ur.” 

A thrill of alarm and fear went through Gadreel, and he sat up, wings flared out in preparation for flight. “Who? Why were they there?” 

“They weren’t rogues,” Abner said, though he didn’t sound of sure of it himself. “They said they were sent by the archangels as scouts. One was from Raphael’s choir, the other from Gabriel’s.” 

None of Abner’s statement made sense. Raphael’s choir were healers and dealers of judgment, while Gabriel’s angels managed Earth and its balance and nature and tended to be the light and laughter of Heaven. Most of the time they were at cross purposes; rare was the occasion where either archangel deigned to team up with the other, and their Father seemed to respect their agree-to-disagree attitude. So if two angels from these opposing choirs were claiming to be working together, it could only mean one of two things—they were lying, or Heaven was planning something. Either way trouble was afoot.

“They said they were scouts?” Gadreel asked. He tilted his head to the side, trying to work out what that could mean, or what it could be hiding. “Did they mention what they were scouting for?”

Abner hesitated, eyes shifting down and away from Gadreel. “They… they spoke of a flood.”

Gadreel raised an eyebrow. “A flood? In Sumer? That’s not quite what I would call unusual, nor would it require the attention of the archangels.” His friend bit his lip, toying with a loose thread on his woolen skirt, so Gadreel softened his expression. “There’s something bigger, isn’t there?”

“When I approached, the two angels were arguing, actually.” Abner took a breath and met Gadreel’s eyes again. “I’m not sure what it was about, but I did overhear something about a catastrophe and the messenger before they realized I was there.”

Dread curled in the pit of Gadreel’s being, because those words changed everything. “The Messenger? That could only mean Gabriel, which means…” Gadreel closed his eyes. “It’s not the archangels who are ordering this flood. It’s Father.”

“We don’t know that,” Abner said, too quick, too loud.

The laughter of the village children filtered through to Gadreel’s ears, and beyond them he could hear their mothers scolding them from the riverbank, warning them to mind the crops or not to wander too far. A passing man, a farmer or maybe even a priest of the local patron goddess Ninlil, gave a rejoinder about letting children be children, and the mothers scolded him too. Something twisted in Gadreel’s heart. For all of this to be gone, even if it was Father’s decision, he couldn’t let it happen. He _wouldn’t_.

“No, we don’t,” Gadreel said at last, opening his eyes.

Abner tilted his head, understanding making its way across his features. “You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Gadreel stood and offered his hand to Abner. “Join me?”

His friend shook his head but accepted it, rising to his feet. “You always have my back, so this is the least I can do.”

Gadreel couldn’t a grin. “Good. You can lead the way.”

* * *

If he hadn’t been looking for them, Gadreel might’ve missed the two angels standing on the southern bank of the Euphrates, just within sight of Ur and its mighty ziggurat. He was surprised to find that he didn’t recognize either of them. All he could ascertain before getting close was that they were young, at least by angelic standards, and that their visits to Earth among humanity had been few, given their discomfort in their vessels. One was in a female vessel, the other male, and as he and Abner approached they both turned to face them.

“You’re back, and you brought a friend,” the female said, narrowing her eyes at Abner. “I thought we said we didn’t need help.”

Gadreel stepped between Abner and the two other angels. “We’re not here to help. We’re here to stop you.”

The male’s eyes widened. “Stop us? Don’t tell me you’ve turned against Heaven like Azazel. Because if you have—”

“Azazel?” Abner grabbed Gadreel’s shoulder and jerked his body backwards to face him. “Is that what happened in Nippur?”

“I’ll explain later, but yes.” Gadreel held up his hands and took a step backwards from all three of them, just to give himself some space. “And no, I haven’t turned against Heaven. I just cannot allow these people to be destroyed, even if Father is the one giving the order. They’ve done nothing to deserve that.”

“If Father deems it so, then they have,” the female said. She crossed her arms, expression turning dark. “What they’ve done to this planet alone should make them worthy of such a fate. Have you seen their cities? All the waste they make, and they just let it pile higher and higher, filling their streets with refuse until it has overcome even the foundations of their houses.”

Gadreel fought to keep his anger down. She had to be one of Gabriel’s then, with a devotion to the planet that was almost as deep as the one to their Father, and while her point was true, it was no excuse for wiping out an entire race of people. “Humans make mistakes. They will learn, just give them time.”

Raphael’s angel, for he must’ve been if Abner’s earlier assessment was right, raised his head, his voice quiet but sure. “Darkness has taken hold here. If we give it time, it will grow and consume this land and more. Sumer is well-connected, and the darkness will surely spread. Azazel chose it for a reason.”

“Hey, none of that talk around here.”

The four of them all turned to look at the owner of the new voice. His Grace was bright, brighter than all of theirs combined, and Gadreel was all but blinded by it. The light was warm, though not quite gentle, laughter and song and everything that made Heaven home.

“Gabriel,” the female said, her tone reverent. “We were just—”

The archangel put his hands on his hips and gave her a look. “Just passing judgment and arguing amongst yourselves. I don’t think that’s what you were sent here to do.” He turned to Gadreel and Abner. “I’m sorry about the intrusion. This is your territory, and we should’ve informed you first, but you know. Dad’s orders.”

Shame and surprise filled Gadreel all at once, and it took him a moment to register that he wasn’t being reprimanded for this. “Of course. It’s just, these people—”

Abner tugged on his arm, trying to quiet him, but Gabriel did it for him. “Look, I know. It seems cruel, even a bit extreme, but that’s not our call to make.” He put a hand on Gadreel’s arm, and the gesture almost made Gadreel jump back in surprise. “Remember, everything Dad does is for a reason. He’s the one with the great big plan.”

Gabriel looked to the other two angels. “Samandriel, Hael, continue scouting. Go upriver as far as Sippar and then report back to me. I’ll stay here and make a sweep of Ur and Eridu.”

They nodded and were quick to follow the orders, while Gabriel returned his attention to them. “You two return to your patrol and business as usual. Michael says that he agrees with Ananiel’s decision, so Sumer is in your care. Just stay out of trouble, all right?”

“Understood,” Abner said, pulling on Gadreel’s arm again, but Gadreel felt like he’d forgotten how to make his feet and wings move.

The archangel smiled, as confident and assuring as Michael, though there was something underneath it, a waver that the leader of Heaven would never have let through. Gadreel started to reach out, whether to protest or to give comfort his own he couldn’t say, but Gabriel took flight just then, heading south. His words stayed with Gadreel, echoing Ananiel’s statement before she returned to Heaven.

Everything their Father did was for a reason. Gadreel believed it, he always had, but now he was beginning to see just what that meant.

Abner nudged him, his wings opening. “Come on, we have to get back.”

Gadreel nodded and followed suit. “Yes, we must make haste.”


	3. Delivering the Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gadreel's back up plan hits a bit of a roadblock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about the point where I feel like I should mention that writing this fic? Is really freaking terrifying. And I'm not even sure why. But I'm also really enjoying it, and I believe so much in what I'm trying to accomplish that I press forward despite my doubts. But yes. Enjoy, guys! (And if at any point the Sumerian terms get confusing or anything, though there shouldn't be any more than what I've put forward in this chapter, let me know, and I'll whip up a glossary or something.)

“So. Azazel.”

They were mid-flight when Abner raised the subject. Gadreel knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, but the timing was awkward, not that Gadreel was surprised. 

“He was corrupting the citizens of Nippur when Ananiel found him,” Gadreel said. “We managed to stop him and bring him to justice, but the damage was done.” 

Abner was quiet the rest of the way back to Shuruppak. When they landed he resumed sitting beneath their favorite palm tree, eyes downcast. 

Gadreel crouched beside his friend. “Look, I know it seems—” 

“That’s why Father is ordering this flood, isn’t it? Because of what Azazel did.” Abner looked up, and there was an incredible sadness in his eyes, a weight that Gadreel never thought he would see. “Because of our failure to protect humanity.” 

“We haven’t failed them yet. Azazel was an anomaly, and our guard is doubled now.” Gadreel squeezed Abner’s shoulder. “You must have faith.” 

“Faith is not what I lack, my friend.” Abner laughed a little. “But you’re right. Despair is… It’s not yet an option.” 

The words rang hollow, but at least he was trying. That was all Gadreel could ask of him. Standing, Gadreel said, “Rest. I’ll take all the northern routes, perhaps as far as Damascus, just to be safe.” 

“Be careful,” Abner said. 

He tried to reassure him with a smile, but the gesture wouldn’t come. All Gadreel could do was nod before returning to the skies.

* * *

Gadreel made north for several leagues before circling back to Shuruppak, making sure to stay low where Abner couldn’t see him. He touched down outside one of the village’s many grain silos, this one closest to the _lugal’s_ house. Popping right into the king’s courtyard would not have gone over well.

There were two armed guards posted outside, and though Gadreel’s vessel was a familiar face, they halted his passage through the arched entryway. 

“The _lugal_ didn’t mention that he had a meeting with any shepherds today,” one said.

“I don’t have a meeting, but I need to speak to the _lugal_. It’s urgent,” Gadreel said. 

The guard on the other side of the entryway scoffed. “Are the sheep conspiring with the goats to overtake the village?” 

“With an attitude like that, they just might.”

Both guards paled, looking past Gadreel now. He turned to see the _ensi_ Atrahasis, the village’s governor, standing just behind them with a raised eyebrow. 

Backpedaling excuses started to fall from the guards’ lips, but Atrahasis quieted them with a hand. “What is the trouble, Dumuzi?” 

Gadreel hesitated, unsure of how to put the matter without alerting the guards. Atrahasis nodded his understanding.

“Of course. We can speak inside,” he said and led Gadreel inside.

Through the entryway was an orchard, a garden sectioned off from the main courtyard by a reed wall, while a tall mud brick wall kept it isolated from the public street. Atrahasis guided Gadreel to a secluded corner of the orchard and sat down at a low bench made of cypress. 

“Better?” the _ensi_ asked. 

It was all Gadreel could to do to just nod, lest he spill everything in one breath. 

“Good.” Atrahasis smiled, more genuine than the ones Gadreel was used to seeing on him. “Now, what it is the trouble? It must be serious, if you’re coming to me or my father. Is it your flocks? Something amiss in the fields?” 

The angel shook his head. “No, they are all fine.” He looked Atrahasis in the eye. “If I tell you, you must tell no one, at least not yet. Only once we’ve discovered whether or not we can avert this tragedy should we tell anyone.” 

Atrahasis gave him a wary look. “All right. What is this catastrophe you fear will fall upon us?” 

Before Gadreel could reply, a light flashed on the other side of the reed wall, and Atrahasis was on his feet, standing between the wall and Gadreel, like he was shielding the angel. “What sorcery is this? Show yourself!”

“I would, but that would be too easy and also not in my job description.” The words seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere, the light pulsing with each syllable, and Gadreel didn’t have to recognize the voice to know who it was.

“Gab—” Gadreel bit down on the name before it escaped, but the damage was done. Atrahasis glanced back at him, brow knitted in confusion. Damn the archangel for forcing him into this awkward position, as blasphemous as a thought that was. “Be cautious, my lord. We don’t know what this power is, or what it is capable of.”

The light had the audacity to chuckle. “Your friend’s right, Atrahasis, though fear not. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then what are you here to do?” Atrahasis asked, crossing his arms.

Gabriel’s grin could be felt in his very Grace, affection and delight that almost made Gadreel forget the Messenger’s purpose here. His reminder was swift. “The One some call Elohim sent me to deliver a message unto you.”

Atrahasis turned to Gadreel. “The tragedy you spoke of?”

Gadreel closed his eyes against the light, like that might somehow save him from being smote for disobedience. “Yes.”

To his surprise—amazement, even—Gabriel’s grin _widened_. “Never let it be said you don’t have excellent shepherds in your city.”

“That we do,” Atrahasis said. “How did you know?”

It took Gadreel a moment to realize that he was the one being addressed. He opened his eyes, and the light’s amusement was almost visible. Relief, frustration, and maybe a little pride bubbled in his being, but Gadreel pushed them down, not wanting to push his luck. “There were signs that the floods would be worse this year, worse than even Shuruppak could handle. Snowfall in the mountains was far worse and more numerous than we’ve seen in quite some time.” The statement was true, and he had observed it during his watch, but passing his lips it still felt like a lie. “I thought it might mean—”

“That this flood will lay waste to Sumer, and Shuruppak most of all.” Gabriel sighed. “But this is not Elohim’s message. You’ve been chosen, Atrahasis son of Ubaratutu, to be the one to rebuild this place. Build a boat and, when the time comes, put your family on it.”

“No.” Atrahasis’ voice was quiet, little more than a whisper. His hands shook, but he gazed unflinching at the light. “No, I won’t. I won’t abandon my people to destruction. There must be a way to avert this. Dumuzi, you said it was possible.”

Oh Father, he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive, not now. Gadreel took a breath. “I said we can look, but the spirit may be right.”

Gabriel softened his light, somehow conveying comfort in an intangible form that even the human among them could feel. “Elohim has decreed this. There is no changing it.”

Atrahasis was silent for a while, though the argument within himself was loud and clear. He was torn between saving his family and risking them for the sake of the land. When he spoke again, the words were unsteady if not desperate. “This Elohim, his message was to tell me to build a boat, yes?”

If one could raise an eyebrow in the form of pure light, Gabriel managed it. “Yes.”

“He made no mention of the flood you and Dumuzi spoke of?”

Gadreel fought the grin that threatened to break out across his face, suddenly glad he’d found Atrahasis instead of his father. The _lugal_ was smart, but his son was clever, having grown up in politics and learned from a young age to navigate those treacherous waters.

The archangel didn’t miss it either. “No. As long as you follow what He has decreed, you and your descendants will be blessed. This I promise.”

“Hmm.” Atrahasis paused, and a spark of hope lit up in his soul. “I cannot do this alone.”

“You won’t have to,” Gadreel said. He stood and put a hand on Atrahasis’ shoulder. “I will do everything in my power to help.”

“As will I.” Gabriel’s light subsided, and a few moments later a man was rounding the corner of the wall and entering the orchard. He had brown skin of a warmer shade than the men of Sumer, taller and more square-jawed, different but not different enough for Atrahasis to take notice. “I got you into this mess. It’s the least I can do to help you survive it.”

Relief washed over the man, though Gadreel couldn’t quite share the feeling. “Thank you, both of you. My people I can handle, but the effort will not be limited to Shuruppak, and that will be quite the undertaking.”

“You have a plan?” Gadreel asked.

Atrahasis nodded. “The irrigation channels. If we build enough of them, deepen the ones we have, it might be enough to offset the inundation and turn it into something manageable.”

“Huh.” Gabriel smiled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s crazy but not out of the question. I can’t do anything directly, but if you need guidance, I’ll be here. And if I’m not, just call, and I will be.”

The _ensi_ returned the expression. “And what shall I call you in such a predicament?”

Gabriel’s smile eased into a smirk. “I have many names, but you can call me Coyote.”

* * *

Atrahasis planned a feast for that night, a celebration of their new guest in order to explain his presence in their village and a chance to announce his plan to all the nobles of Shuruppak.

“What will you do until then?” Gadreel asked of Gabriel, as they exited the _lugal’s_ home.

The archangel tossed about an apple taken from the orchard. “What do you recommend? This is your city after all.”

Gadreel blinked. “I… I don’t know. I’ve only ever watched the flocks in my time here.”

“You’re joking,” Gabriel said, shooting him a look.

“No?” Gadreel shook his head, unsure where the archangel was going with this line of questioning. “There are a few taverns that I’ve heard all kinds of tawdry stories about, but—”

Gabriel laughed. “Well then, we have to visit those.”

Saying yes would have been easy, too easy perhaps, but a glimpse of the fields reminded Gadreel of his duty and of Abner, who no doubt was wondering what was taking him so long in his patrol. “Perhaps later. I must return to my route.”

“Of course,” Gabriel said with an easy smile. “I suppose I can do a little exploration on my own.”

“Just be careful.” Gadreel’s tone was more serious than he intended, and he wasn’t even sure why he was warning Gabriel, who by all rights was far more capable than he at keeping himself safe.

As Gabriel went to respond, they both noticed a little girl walking by, who made no secret of eying the apple in Gabriel’s hand. It took Gadreel another glance to realize that it was in fact the _lugal’s_ granddaughter, Atrahasis’ daughter.

“Hungry?” Gabriel asked her.

She nodded. “It’s from my papa’s garden, right? Those are my favorite, but grandfather doesn’t let us pick them very often. He says they’re to be treasured.”

Gadreel couldn’t help smirking at the archangel, who shrugged and handed him the offending fruit. In turn, he offered the apple to the little girl. “And he’s right. Promise me you’ll savor it?”

“Uh huh.” The girl snatched the apple from his hand before running off towards her home. “Thank you, Dumuzi!” she yelled behind her as she fled.

Gabriel watched her go, grinning. “Kids.”


	4. Beggars at the Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the weight of everything begins to settle on Gadreel, new tasks emerge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost late, but I managed. Somehow. I also realize about now that I really need to get organized, 'cause this flying by the seat of my pants thing is wrecking me. I do like the results so far however, so eh. Enjoy!

Undertaking the rest of his patrol was difficult for Gadreel. His mind kept drifting when he was supposed to be focused on sweeping city and plain for any signs of further corruption, going back to the matter of the flood and Gabriel. The archangel surprised him, going above and beyond what their Father had called him to do. Not that Gadreel doubted that he had humanity’s best interests at heart, but Gabriel’s reputation preceded him. More surprising was the idea that the idea that they had found a way to save the people of Sumer while still following Father’s orders. It seemed blasphemous, if not enough to get them killed, but maybe this is what He intended. Mysterious were His ways, after all. 

So caught up in his thoughts was Gadreel that he had flown well past Damascus, almost to Aleppo, before he realized his location. He redirected his flight in a sharp turn, cursing himself for not paying closer attention. 

As he approached Sumer from the northwest, before even Mari was behind him, Gadreel could see the darkness seething in Nippur. His heart wrenched; there had to be something that could be done for those poor souls. They deserved better than Azazel’s taint and eternal denial of entry into Heaven. Gadreel would find a way; if it had worked once, it could work again.

* * *

The sun was just starting to set when Gadreel made it back to Shuruppak. Abner was waiting for him in the fields with crossed arms and furrowed brow. 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

What should have been a simple question proved difficult for Gadreel to answer, not without all of his fears and thoughts spilling out in one ugly confession that he was loathe to set upon Abner’s shoulders, so he settled on a hesitant, unconvincing, “I’m fine.”

A wave of concern in a sea of worry in Abner’s Grace served to confirm to Gadreel that he was, in fact, a terrible actor. “You were gone for hours, Gadreel.”

“I investigated Damascus, like I said I would,” Gadreel said. At least this wasn’t a lie on its face. 

This Abner seemed to accept, his body relaxing, though his concern wasn’t budged. “Of course. I’ll take up my route then.” He stretched out his wings. “By the way, there seems to be a celebration in town. Something about a visitor from Eridu. Could you investigate?”

Gadreel had to stop himself from raising an eyebrow. “You mean you haven’t heard?”

“I haven’t strayed much from the flock, so no I don’t,” Abner said, giving Gadreel a look. “But you already know, don’t you?”

“Well, yes.” Gadreel cleared his throat. “Gabriel came and delivered a message unto Atrahasis, charged him with building a boat so he and his family could avoid the coming flood. I would’ve thought that he would’ve came and told you about it.”

Abner scoffed. “Someone tell me something with any kind of promptness? Never.” After a moment he shook his head and smiled, just a little. “So he’s the special visitor, then?”

“Mm. Atrahasis said he would throw a feast tonight,” Gadreel said. The selection of Eridu was clever, no doubt a very deliberate choice on Atrahasis’ part, as it was the patron city of the pagan Enki, the Sumerian god of water.

“No wonder you took so long. Well, have fun, enough for both of us,” Abner said, his smile turning into an irritating shade of all-knowing.

He opened his mouth to argue, because he hadn’t planned on attending Atrahasis’ feast, but Abner took flight before he had the chance.

“There you are.”

Gadreel turned to see Gabriel running towards him, drawing raised eyebrows from passersby and sheep alike.

The archangel beamed at him as he drew close. “I thought you would miss all the fun. Where’s your partner?”

“He had to take up his patrol, though it shouldn’t take him long,” Gadreel said. “I can wait for him to return, and then—”

“Oh no you don’t.” Gabriel put his hands on his hips. “You chose Atrahasis as the one to receive the message, which means this feast is kind of your fault, so you have to go. Sorry, those are the rules.”

“I… what?” Gadreel blinked, tilting his head at Gabriel. “What is that supposed to mean?”

An array of emotions flickered across Gabriel’s being, settling on mild embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess I should explain that one.” He sighed, though there was a hint of amusement in it. “Dad didn’t give me direct instructions as to who to deliver the Message to. He just said, ‘The Watcher will know,’ and left it at that. I mean, I’ve come to expect vagueness from Him, but this time it was a little surprising, given what’s at stake.”

“So Father thought I would know who to give the Message to?” Gadreel asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “That’s just it. I’m still not sure what He meant by that, but you showed up just as we were looking around and were apparently the only Watchers in Sumer, so. I took a chance and followed you, and you went straight to Atrahasis. I figured that was about as clear a sign as I was going to get.”

The weight of that statement settled on Gadreel’s shoulders. Father trusted him and his judgment for a task as great as this one, and Gadreel had to wonder why. Guilt started to twist and twine around his being, guilt at having made the wrong choice, guilt at having made the _right_ one—what he had inadvertently asked of Atrahasis was immense, perhaps too much.

“Hey.” Gabriel set a hand on his shoulder. “No brooding about it, all right? You didn’t know what you were signing Atrahasis up for, which is what made it a good decision. He’s a capable, smart man. Personally I couldn’t think of anyone better for the job.”

While Gadreel could see the statement for its truth, it did little to reassure him. He doubted any amount of words could. “Perhaps.”

Gabriel clapped his arm, smile returning, though the cracks were visible this time. “Well now, I believe we have a party to get to, don’t we?”

“I suppose we do,” Gadreel said, allowing himself a smile as well, false though it might’ve been.

* * *

People were already gathered in the _lugal’s_ guest house, a reed long house situated at the edge of the king’s property. Most were lounging on mats that lined the floor of the house, clusters of three to four people congregating around clay jars of beer, and they all stopped to stare at Gabriel and Gadreel as they made their way to the back of the house, where Atrahasis sat with his family.

“I was beginning to worry,” the _ensi_ said as they approached. He was seated to one side of the low-slung cypress table, with a woman Gadreel recognized as his wife Iltani and the young girl from earlier that day on his left.

Gabriel flashed them a wide grin. “Sorry about that. Had to make sure Dumuzi here didn’t miss out on the celebration. Even shepherds need let loose every once in a while.”

At the center of the table sat an older man, hair long since gone white and a long beard that suited his commanding and wise demeanor. This was the _lugal_ himself, Ubaratutu. He gave Gabriel a warm smile. “I would agree. Dumuzi has brought this city much prosperity in the last ten years, though he works far too hard.”

The archangel nudged Gadreel’s shoulder, and Gadreel did his best to keep his face neutral. “Well with encouragement like that, I suppose I can indulge for the evening, Your Majesty,” he said.

Ubaratutu laughed, hearty and bright. “Good. Find yourself a priestess and ‘indulge’, before people start to wonder what you do out in the fields all alone.”

“I don’t—”

_Trust me, you don’t want to go there,_ Gabriel whispered across their Graces. Out loud he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure our trusty shepherd has all kinds of fun.”

The king chuckled and held up his hands. “Fair enough. Now you, you must be the man from Eridu my son has told me so much about.”

Atrahasis nodded. “Yes, Father. This is Ki. He comes bearing grave news, which Dumuzi confirmed from his observations to be true.”

_Wait, ‘Ki’? Isn’t Coyote good enough for him?_ Gabriel asked.

Gadreel could hear the archangel’s wings shifting, feathers rustling in indignation. He touched the tip of one wing to the middle of Gabriel’s back, trying to comfort him. _Coyote is a foreign name and would raise too much suspicion. Not that Ki isn’t suspicious on its own, but at least it’s familiar._

It took a few moments for Gabriel’s wings to still, though his expression hadn’t changed throughout the ordeal. _You’re right. I just don’t appreciate being renamed without being consulted first. Names have power, in their way._

“I see,” Ubaratutu said, loud enough to interrupt their angelic conversation. “So, what is this news that you bring, Ki?”

The room went quiet, all eyes turning towards them. This was it, one of the most critical moments of their plan, and Gadreel was glad (and a touch guilty for feeling glad) that the brunt of that burden did not lie on him.

Gabriel took a deep breath before strutting towards the king’s table. “You see, it’s like this. Every year the two rivers flood, right? Some years it’s devastating, some years it’s not enough, but we’ve learned to cope. We know what signs to look for now, and we keep a reserve of grain from the good years for the bad, in Shuruppak especially. Ninlil would be proud.”

Ubaratutu nodded. “Indeed. I take it there is something different about this year’s flood?”

“In Eridu we’ve seen the portents, and word from the north at the source of the rivers confirms our suspicions. This year’s flood will be more than disastrous. I fear our land will not survive it unscathed,” Gabriel said.

Whispers started making their way across the room, but the _lugal_ silenced them with a raised hand. Like father, like son.

The archangel gave him an appreciative nod. “I came to Shuruppak to see about saving the grain reserves, so that what people did survive would not starve. However, the ensi came up with a plan that may just save us all, but we cannot do it alone. Getting the other cities to help will be difficult but not impossible, I think.”

More murmuring cropped up, but the _lugal_ did not quiet them. He stared at Gabriel for several minutes, his eyes hard and discerning. A normal man might have been intimidated, but Gabriel stood firm against the judgment, though one of his wings reached out and touched Gadreel’s. Without thinking Gadreel reciprocated, not letting his mind wonder about what either action meant.

“You’ll be the one doing the convincing then, Ki. You seem to have a talent for it,” Ubaratutu said. He looked at Atrahasis. “My son will expand on the details, and we will get started in the morning.”

Gabriel relaxed, grin going up again. Gadreel didn’t allow himself the luxury.

* * *

The rest of the feast went off without a hitch. Gadreel watched Gabriel flit around the room and make easy conversation with the villagers, while he kept the ground next to a beer jug warm. He spoke to those he knew as they passed but otherwise was quiet, until Atrahasis’ daughter plopped herself down next to him.

“Thank you again for the apple today, Dumuzi,” she said, her words slurred and sleepy. “It was delicious.”

Gadreel found himself smiling. “You’re welcome, little one.” He looked down at her and noticed the uncharacteristic pout on her face. “You don’t seem to be enjoying the feast quite the same.”

She shook her head. “They’re always so boring. I can’t run or play or anything.” After a moment she added, “The food is good though.”

The angel laughed. “I agree. Your mother’s date cakes are excellent.” He’d had at least four since things had settled down.

A little noise of agreement left her lips, and she started to lean against him. Another glance down revealed that her eyes had fallen shut, and her breathing had eased into an even rhythm.

“I don’t know how she can fall asleep so easily,” came Atrahasis’ voice.

Gadreel looked up. “It is late, my lord.”

The ensi nodded. “It’s comforting to see how unguarded children are in their innocence. I envy them.” He smiled before turning his gaze to Gadreel. “This is actually quite fortuitous. I am in need of a favor, Dumuzi, though I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“What is it?” Gadreel asked.

Atrahasis sat down facing him, close enough that he could keep his words between the two of them. “With everything going on, all the extra work plus the coming harvest, I fear I won’t be able to keep watch of Kammani the way I should. It’s not that I fear for her safety, but…”

“You fear for her safety,” Gadreel said with a nod.

“It’s irrational, but I can’t help it.” Atrahasis leaned back, body relaxing a bit. “I know you’ll be busy enough, but if you could watch out for her, Dumuzi, I would be forever grateful. I trust you, as you trust me, and she seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Gadreel hesitated. He wanted to say yes, he did, but between playing his part and the parts of half the Watchers in Sumer, he wasn’t sure he could do any better than Atrahasis at keeping the little girl safe. As he went to answer, Gabriel stepped in, dropping down to the other side of the beer jug with a sigh.

“Of course he will. Right, Dumuzi?”

“I—” Gadreel tried to argue again, but Gabriel shot him a look over the top of the jug, and it took much of Gadreel’s energy to hold back his exasperation. “Yes, of course.”

Atrahasis smiled. “Thank you. I’ll make sure you are well compensated for your efforts.”

“There’s no need,” Gadreel said, holding up a hand. “Your gratitude and Kammani’s safety are payment enough, my lord.”

Iltani came by a while later to retrieve her child, waking her with a singsong, “Come on, Lilu. Bedtime is calling, little one.”

Kammani grumbled but stood, latching onto her mother and waving at the three of them as they left the guest house.

“I suppose that is my cue,” Atrahasis said, standing as well. “A flood I can handle, but an angry wife? I could not hope to survive that.”

As he walked away, Gadreel turned to Gabriel. “I’m not so sure I should’ve accepted that task.”

“It’ll be fine,” Gabriel said. He slid the bronze drinking tube, which Gadreel had left untouched, over to him and sipped at the beer. “Mm, not bad. And, hey, if Ananiel or even Michael protests, I’ll back you up. We kind of owe Atrahasis at this point, and we did promise to help where we could.”

“True enough.” Worry and more guilt ate at Gadreel, but Gabriel extended a wing again, and Gadreel found himself leaning into the touch this time.

Gabriel sent a wave of reassurance his way, accompanied by a smile to match. “Everything will work out, you’ll see.”

And in that moment Gadreel believed that it just might.


	5. A Little Brother's Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abner narrowly escapes a surprisingly dangerous enemy, and Gabriel adds another scheme to the pile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter before NaNoWriMo starts. Oh dear. But, with NaNo comes more standard chapter updates, so fear not, my lovelies! Also, let's play a game called "spot the unexpected game changing element". Winner gets my 1000% respect. ;)

Work began on the canals just after sunrise the next morning. From his position in the pastures, Gadreel watched the men gather and organize in the fields, the _lugal_ directing them.

By the time the last traces of pink left the sky, Abner returned from his patrol, all but collapsing onto the ground beside Gadreel.

“Are you all right?” Gadreel asked. The other angel bore no injuries that he could see, but his Grace was dim. “What happened?”

Abner couldn't even make the effort to look at Gadreel. “That thieves guild you used to go on about. I was in Larsa and caught them in the act of robbing the temple of Utu, which while ironic is also wrong. I tried to stop them, but there were too many. I was overwhelmed, and they escaped.”

Gadreel sat up and lifted Abner's chin so that their eyes met. Shame resonated from the very core of his Grace, and it was so unlike Abner, an angel who gave half-hearted apologies when his superiors reprimanded him for his lateness, who grinned with pride when he managed to get the easiest assignments. “You did well, brother. The important thing is that you managed to stop the robbery. You did, didn't you?”

“They made off with some barley and a few treasures, but nothing the temple can't recover.” Abner slumped against the palm tree at their backs. “The odd thing was, I was cloaked from their sight when I approached, and yet somehow they saw me and attacked first. That should be impossible.”

“It _is_ impossible,” Gadreel said. Even with Abner's Grace as wrung out as it was now, which it hadn't been when he'd gone after the thieves, no human should have been able to see him in any way. “Unless they're not normal humans.”

“You mean, like oracles or psychics?” Abner asked, tilting his head. “I suppose, but I didn't think psychics… congregated.”

A laugh materialized in the air beside them, and Gabriel was quick to follow it. “Even seers need friends.”

Both angels jumped at the sudden appearance of the archangel. Abner grabbed at his blade, but Gadreel managed to stop him in time.

Gabriel frowned, holding up his hands. “Whoa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I take it your patrol didn't go well?”

“Not exactly, no,” Abner said, his tone short.

“What happened? You look really burnt out.” Gabriel reached out towards Abner, hand alight with healing Grace, but he shrank back from the touch.

Abner shook his head. “Just some humans who were too clever for their own good.”

The archangel leaned away, and there was a flicker of distress in his Grace, but within seconds Gabriel was his cheery self again. “Never underestimate human ingenuity. Take our situation here, for example.”

There was something strange between them, something new, but Gadreel couldn't put his finger on it. He set it aside for later, because he couldn't ignore it, and that fact on top of everything else was unsettling. “Get some rest, brother. I'll take the night watch for a while.”

His friend didn't respond at first, too busy staring at Gabriel with an odd, inscrutable expression. “The burdens you bear, Gadreel. Though now I'm beginning to wonder why.” Abner's tone was cold, eyes still on Gabriel.

Frustration pulled at Gadreel's nerves at the sight, wanting to shake his friend and demand to know what was wrong, as though it would do any good.

And then Abner blinked, sitting up straighter. “I apologize, brother. I don't mean to take my exhaustion out on you.” He rose to his feet, clapping Gadreel on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Gadreel watched him wander out to a shaded hillock where a few sheep had taken to graze and sit down among them.

Gabriel nudged him. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Of course,” Gadreel said again, though the statement rang false even in his ears. He turned his attention back to the archangel, who was somehow less perplexing than his partner. “And you? I'm surprised Michael or Raphael haven't come down to yank you back to Heaven already.”

“I told them before I left that this wouldn't be a short mission, that Father wanted me to see it through,” Gabriel said, something between a smile and a smirk playing on his lips.

Gadreel couldn't help but envy his complete ease in his vessel, not to mention that the expression was contagious. “And is that true?”

The archangel laughed. “Not strictly, but they don't know that, and I might've wanted an excuse to get out of the house for a while. You don't know how good you have it to be assigned down here.”

“I'm not sure about that,” Gadreel said with a shrug. “As much as I love this village and the people in it, I do miss Heaven. Sometimes it feels…” He stopped himself, waving the sentence away with a hand. “Never mind.”

“No, no, no, you don't get to interrupt your own confession. Once you start it, you've got to finish it.” Gabriel grinned and held up his hands when Gadreel shot him a look. “That's just the way it is, Gad. I don't make the rules.”

With all the weight on his mind and heart, Gadreel found himself smiling. “If you insist.” He shook his head. “Sometimes it feels like Heaven has forgotten about us while we've been down here. The Watcher garrisons get the occasional order, but—”

Gabriel nodded. “It's not the same. I get it. Maybe once has this Deluge business is over, you can go back. You know, relax a bit before going back to saving the world.”

“'Saving the world' isn't quite how I would put it but all right,” Gadreel said with a chuckle. “That does sound nice.”

“Don't you worry. I'll badger Michael about it until he gives in. You deserve a break.” Gabriel's smile turned warm, if not affectionate, though Gadreel decided that was his senses playing tricks on him. It had to be.

“Ki!”

The angels turned to see Atrahasis running towards them, out of breath and sweat covering his brow.

“Hey?” Gabriel said as he drew close. “Where's the fire?”

Atrahasis came to an ungrateful stop, leaning against the palm tree as he caught his breath. “Your arse if you don't get moving soon.”

“Moving? Why?” Gabriel looked to Gadreel for an explanation, but the _ensi_ found his voice first.

“You told my father you would go tell the other cities about the flood.” Atrahasis crossed his arms, composure returning to him bit by bit. “Or don't you remember?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I don't recall actually agreeing to anything. Plus, I can't interfere directly. I told you that before.”

“Technically you already have by speaking at the feast,” Gadreel said, feeling a touch guilty for siding against Gabriel on this. “And you are the Messenger.”

The glare the archangel made the guilt a little worse. “You know, I _am_ the Messenger, and my message has been delivered. I'm only here to make sure it gets acted upon.” He turned back to Atrahasis. “Which, hey, shouldn't you be working on that?”

“I am, as soon as you start heading towards Uruk,” Atrahasis said. “I convinced my father to send some messengers to the northern cities. All you have to do is inform Uruk, Ur, and Eridu. They'll do the rest Please, Shuruppak's efforts alone will not be enough.”

“I'm sorry, but I can't,” Gabriel said, expression soft. “Can't you send more messengers?”

The _ensi_ sighed, shaking his head. “We don't have the people to spare. The rest of the crops need planting, and if we take anyone else away from the canal digging, I fear they won't be completed in time. You're the only one who can go.”

“I can't—” Gabriel paused. And then his face lit up, eyes and mouth going wide with a grin. “Or maybe I can.”

Gadreel blinked and turned to state at the archangel. “How?”

“A trick my brother taught me ages ago. I can create a duplicate image of myself, one I can fully control, but the copy wouldn't technically be me, even if a regular human can't tell the difference.” Gabriel's grin got bigger. “I don't know why I didn't think of that before.”

Something about that idea made Gadreel's blood run cold, though he couldn't name why, but it was a warning he decided to heed. “Is that safe?”

His unease must have been enough for Gabriel to detect, because the archangel extended a wing towards him, feathers just brushing his own, the little contact far more effective a comforting gesture than the words that would follow. “Should be. I mean, I'll be stuck here while I'm projecting and maybe a little vulnerable from having to hide on top of that, but other than that, but I've never had a problem with the spell before.”

“Your Elohim must be a forgiving god to allow all of these technicalities,” Atrahasis said with a smile.

Gabriel shrugged. “He is what He is, and I would ask nothing more of Him.”

The _ensi_ nodded. “Fair enough. Well, if you're confident in this, then I have faith it won't fail. Plus my father won't try to have you killed, which is good for all of us.”

“I should probably at least give the impression that I've begun my journey then,” Gabriel said, standing.

His moving away shook Gadreel out of his daze. “If you need cover, my home is on the far side of the village.”

The archangel's smile shifted, something different there that Gadreel couldn't identify, something that eased the chill in his blood, and he did his best not to wonder at how that was possible. “Thank you, Dumuzi.”

Gadreel watched him go, not noticing until too late that Atrahasis was staring at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” the _ensi_ said, though his smirk belied his statement. “I need to be going myself. Boats don't build themselves.”

“ _Ada_ , wait!”

Before Atrahasis could turn to meet the light, childlike voice, he was tackled round the waist, and he twisted to return the embrace properly. “I was just going to send for you, my little one.”

Kammani grinned up at her father. “ _Ama_ had to go early, so she told me to come find you.”

“And you came straight here?” Atrahasis' stern tone was underscored by the too-deep lines of worry around his mouth and brow. “No stops or taking the long way around?”

The little girl shook her head. “No, _Ada_. Just like you taught me.”

Atrahasis relaxed. “Good girl. Now, Dumuzi is going to watch you for the day. Listen to him just as you would me, all right?”

“Of course.” Kammani hugged her father tight again before setting herself down next to Gadreel in the grass.

“Be safe the both of you,” Atrahasis said.

“Fear not, my lord,” Gadreel said with a nod, and after a few more moments Atrahasis took his leave as well.

“Hey, Dumuzi,” Kammani said, nudging him. “Can I play with the sheep?”

Gadreel attempted to give her his strictest look, but it fought a losing battle against Kammani's bright smile. “Only if you promise to be careful and treat them with respect. They're animals, not toys.”

She gave him a vigorous nod, her excitement palpable.

The angel relented, though he might have chided himself a little for being so soft, and offered his hand to her. “I'll introduce you, then.”

* * *

On the shaded hillock yonder, Abner was alone, as the sheep flocked to greet their new visitor. His eyes, however were on Gadreel, taking in how his Grace glowed bright, content despite how their world was now balanced on the edge of a knife. A single push, one piece out of place was all it would take to bring everything tumbling down.

Abner smiled to himself. “It has begun.”


	6. Rumor Has It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azazel's legacy in Nippur turns out to be quite different than Gadreel expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, I was a bit naive in thinking NaNo would make writing this any easier. But that's mostly because, to quoth the great and powerful Chuck, writing is hard. On the bright side, there is plot! And it moves! Why that is such a hard-fought accomplishment, I have no idea, but I ain't gonna question it. :P

“What's this little one's name?”

Gadreel looked up from the two sheep in front of him, with whom he'd just negotiated the livestock equivalent of a land dispute, to see which one Kammani was referring to. It turned out to be a lamb, the youngest in the flock. “I don't know. He's only a couple weeks old, so I haven't thought of a name for him yet.”

Kammani looked thoughtful. “How about Ki?”

“'Ki'?” Gadreel tilted his head to the side, rolling the idea around in his mind. He wasn't sure if Gabriel would be insulted or pleased that they'd named a sheep after him, not to mention it didn't quite fit with the others, who bore names of local gods or Akkadian renderings of angelic names. So he asked Kammani, “Why Ki?”

She shrugged. “He's the newest to the flock, and Ki is the newest in our village.”

“Hmm.” Gadreel considered the lamb and smiled. “I suppose so. Well, Ki it is, then.”

The sky was beginning to turn shades of gold and orange, so Gadreel gathered Kammani and returned her to her parent's home, where her mother Iltani had already arrived. When he got back to the pasture, Gabriel was sitting under Gadreel's favorite tree, looking run down and much more worse for wear than he had this morning.

“Are you all right?” Gadreel asked as he approached.

Gabriel gave him a thin smile, and the rest of his face seemed to brighten with it, though that could've been wishful thinking on Gadreel's part. “Oh, I'm just fine, kiddo, don't you worry.”

“But your Grace, it's—” Gadreel stopped himself, picking up on the sarcasm a second too late. He cleared his throat. “I fail to see how you can be so blithe about this.”

“It's called a coping mechanism. You should get one, Gad, they're nifty.” Gabriel sagged against the tree, letting out a little sigh. “How did your day of babysitting go?”

“Better than I expected,” Gadreel said. “Dealing with human children is preferable than dealing with them as adults.”

The archangel held up a hand. “Not always true, and that goes both ways. Humans are harder to lump into groups than angels are. Blanket statements just never seem to stick.”

Gadreel couldn't help himself. “Even that one?”

What he didn't expect was for Gabriel's smile to grow wider at that, for him to _laugh_ at the rejoinder, as though he was pleased at hearing it. “Fair enough.”

And maybe Gadreel let himself revel in that victory for a moment—there weren't many to go around at present, and even as small as this one was, it counted. “You still haven't answered my question.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Splitting up my Grace took more out of me than I anticipated, that's all. With some rest I'll be just fine.”

“You would turn a mission into an excuse to take a holiday.”

Both Gadreel and Gabriel jumped at the intruding voice, which turned out to belong to Abner, though Gadreel hadn't recognized it before seeing his partner standing beside them.

“I'm… sorry?” Gabriel asked, sitting up, wings flaring at the jibe.

And then Abner's expression shifted, brow relaxing and shoulders drooping into a slight bow. “I mean, just from what I've heard in rumors around the garrison. No offense intended.”

The archangel narrowed his eyes, but Gadreel stepped between them. He didn't bother arguing the statement about rumors, as it was an indulgence unfamiliar to Gadreel. What was more important was keeping the two of them off their paths which suddenly seemed bound to collide. “You found nothing amiss among the locals, Abner?”

His partner gave him a look, no doubt well aware of his intentions, but let it slide without comment. “There are whispers here and there, some about the thieves in Bad-tibira and some about what exactly this village is up to. We must proceed in the rest of this mission with the utmost caution, if we wish it to succeed.”

“We will,” Gadreel said, unease settling into the core of his being, though it was not the talk of remarkably clever humans that did this. Something about Abner was different, had been since his attack, which Gadreel didn't hold against him. Still, it was disquieting to see his partner so serious and focused on the mission, and as much as it could frustrate him at times, he'd give quite a bit to get a glimmer of the old Abner back.

“Well,” he said, shaking off the feeling. He'd have to discuss it with Abner at some later date. “My patrol awaits. Rest, both of you. I'll return at sunrise.”

As he took flight, he felt a wingtip brush his, the gesture saying far more than words could hope to, and Gadreel didn't have to look back to know whose it was.

* * *

Somehow Sumer wasn't any quieter at night than during the day. The temples came alive, priestesses opening the doors to all sorts of “worshippers”, and fields and rooftops alike were littered with those who sought wisdom from the stars. Gadreel wished he had the time to walk among them, just out of their sight, and listen and observe, as he had many times during his decade in this land.

However, as Abner had said, caution was the primary objective now, especially if members of the thieves guild _could_ discern an angel's halo, even if he was hiding. Gadreel cast out his Grace like a net, canvassing each city within a couple passes, and stopped only to rest, usually on a dark, empty plain. While it would provide no cover, he also couldn't be surprised.

Throughout the night he avoided Nippur, taking every city and village and haphazard cluster of reed homes along the route until it was all that was left. With the amount of darkness already present in Nippur, Gadreel pulled his Grace in tighter around himself and went through the city with a fine-tooth comb, which was how he stumbled upon something new.

He tried to pass through into the temple of Enlil at the heart of the city, but his entry was blocked a strange force. A second glance revealed that the outer walls of the temple were covered in what Gadreel could only describe as Enochian graffiti.

“You must be one of Azazel's kind,” said a voice near him.

Gadreel jumped and turned to face the speaker. The courtyard had been clear moments before, not to mention that Gadreel had been cloaked from human sight, but this man managed to see him.

“Do not be alarmed,” the man said, holding up his hands. “Our warding is strong enough to stifle the powers of a weaker… whatever you are. You are actually proving quite resilient to the spell's effects.”

“I don't understand.” Gadreel glanced between the man and the glowing script on the temple walls. “How did you do this, and how do you know Azazel? Who are you?”

The barrage of questions didn't seem to faze the man. Instead he smiled and nodded at Gadreel. “To say that I know Azazel would be a stretch. Most in Nippur met him at least once, as he tried to get us to partake in his sinful ways.”

“And you didn't?” Gadreel asked.

“No. A small contingent of us saw through his scheme and resisted, and the temple is where we make our home, using the letters he tried to teach us and no small amount of his blood that we managed to steal. We have come to call ourselves the Children of Enlil, faithful servants of the Storm-Lord,” the man said. “I'm Namdu, good sir. And you?”

A read of the man's soul—this Namdu, as he claimed himself to be—confirmed his words. He was innocent, morally upright, but there was something about him that gave Gadreel pause. “Dumuzi of Shuruppak.”

Namdu's eyes widened in recognition. “You must be the one helping Shuruppak prepare for the floods. Rumors are that they are going to be worse than usual this year.”

“They will be, yes. You've already heard that here?” Gadreel said, choosing to sidestep the issue of who was leading the operations, for Gabriel's safety more than his own. Atrahasis' messengers were fleet of foot, or at the least they knew the right people to tell.

“Word of imminent tragedy travels fast. A wool merchant arrived midday, saying he'd heard interesting news at a feast in Shuruppak.” Namdu cleared his throat. “How did you know Azazel, if you don't mind me asking?”

Gadreel shifted on his feet. Everything about this encounter made him uncomfortable, though on the surface all the oddities checked out, except perhaps the fact that Azazel would have been foolish enough to give these humans his true name. As Gabriel had said, names had power, and Azazel was too clever for that kind of carelessness. “He's a wayward brother of ours, but you can rest easy. We've apprehended him and taken him home.”

“That is good news. Perhaps now we can bring some peace to our city. The people would hear nothing from us while he was here,” Namdu said. A moment later, he frowned. “You helped bring him to justice, then?”

Without thinking Gadreel nodded in the affirmative, regretting it as soon as he did.

Namdu smiled. “Nippur owes you a great debt.”

“No, that's not—”

The man talked over his protest, setting a hand on Gadreel's shoulder. “Please. Allow us to repay you. We could lend men to help with the preparations in Shuruppak. I'm sure the _lugal_ would appreciate the assistance.”

That touch was unsettling on its own, and all Gadreel wanted to do was throw off his hand and fly away, and the only thing that kept him on the ground was the fear that Namdu might have found a way to follow him. And the village did need the help, but Gadreel couldn't ignore the dread in his gut, so he hedged the question as best he could. “You would have to ask him, my friend. I haven't the power to make that decision.”

“Of course, my apologies. I didn't mean to presume.” Namdu smiled again, gentler this time, and stepped back. Gadreel tried to school his face, to not let his relief at the distance now between them show. “A few of my brethren and I will go to Shuruppak to speak to your _lugal_ personally, if you would be so kind as to tell him of our imminent arrival?”

There were logic problems with that, but Gadreel was careful not to mention them. The man had enough information as it was. “As soon as I return, but for now I have other duties. I bid you farewell, Namdu.”

“Farewell and thank you, Dumuzi,” Namdu said, something in his eyes that Gadreel couldn't name, a glint that he didn't trust for a moment.

He made a show of exiting the courtyard and rounding a corner, disappearing from Namdu's sight, before taking to the skies and putting as much distance between himself and Nippur as fast as possible.


	7. Warnings Unheeded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ananiel returns, and Namdu arrives in Shuruppak.

The sky was beginning to lighten by the time Gadreel returned to Shuruppak, and Gabriel was gone from under the tree.

“He went off to rest not long after you left,” Abner said from behind him, and Gadreel was off-balance enough that his partner's sudden appearance failed to bother him. Or perhaps he was getting used to Abner's new brand of strange behavior.

“That's all right. He needs the rest,” Gadreel said. He turned to face his friend. “And I have to speak to Atrahasis and the _lugal_.”

Abner tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Something happened on your patrol.” His tone was flat, devoid of concern or even curiosity.

If Gadreel just had more _time_ , he would've sat Abner down and forced out whatever was bothering him, but moments like that seemed few and far between now. “Yes, and I will tell you about it, but for now—”

“Of course. Just as you tell me about everything else, like Gabriel and the _ensi's_ daughter.”

“Abner—”

“That's enough out of both of you.”

That voice brought them both to attention, and Ananiel appeared before them, staring them down despite her vessel's shorter stature.

“What are you doing here?” Abner asked with only a hair more respect in his voice than when he had spoken to Gadreel.

Ananiel didn't miss it, not that Gadreel thought she would, and Abner above all should have known better. For a moment her wings flared out, anger flashing in her eye, and then the display of emotion was gone quick as it came. “Michael wanted me to check up on you, though I tried to assure him that Gabriel's presence here would be enough to keep you in line and on-task. Perhaps I was wrong.”

Gadreel's gaze dropped to the ground, and he could feel a pang of guilt resonate in Abner's heart. In an odd way that gave him hope. “Our apologies, Ananiel. Much has happened since you returned to Heaven.”

Their commander relented, but only just, and nodded. “Michael told me about the coming Deluge, as it's being called upstairs. I would have returned sooner, but I had to bear witness for Azazel's trial.”

A spark of interest lit up Abner's Grace. “What judgment did Heaven pass on him?”

“Father deemed that he should Fall for his deeds, to live as one of those that he tempted and led astray,” Ananiel said. She frowned. “Michael ripped out his Grace, and Raphael destroyed it to ensure that Azazel could not return to Heaven.”

“Or become an angel again,” Abner said. There was something dark in his eyes, a feeling that, this time, Gadreel understood.

“More importantly, he cannot harm anyone now, not the way he could as an angel.” Ananiel shook her head. “I shudder to think the damage Azazel could have caused if he had been allowed to continue.”

Though the thought horrified him—the idea of losing his Grace forever, of being cut off from all his brothers and sisters—there was a little, quiet part of Gadreel that imagined becoming human to not be such an awful thing, not ideal but also not awful. Life would be short, but all the things one could experience, to feel and to make mistakes. It was appealing in its way, though Gadreel didn't dare voice any of this. Instead, he asked their commander, “What of the garrison now, then? What would Father have us do?”

“Michael said the previous orders will stand, with Sumer in your charge while the rest of us wait. With the Deluge on the way, little else makes sense.” As Ananiel looked at Gadreel, he could have sworn he saw her smile, small but amused and possibly even approving. Interacting with humans was much simpler, Gadreel decided then, because they couldn't read your mind at a moment's notice.

Abner straightened. “There are other troubles in Sumer, like the ring of thieves in Bad-tibira. They could very well finish what Azazel started, and we cannot risk them survivng the flood. There should be enough time to weed them out.”

“It may be worse than that,” Gadreel said. “There exists in Nippur a group of humans who knew Azazel by name, and that he was neither god nor human. They know how to ward places against angels. If we take their leader as an example, they are a good, righteous people, but I don't think we can trust that to be enough.”

“With humans it rarely is,” was Abner's contribution.

Ananiel crossed her arms and rubbed her chin. “You're right, Gadreel. We'll keep them in Nippur, until we can learn more about them.”

That was standard procedure, and it was only now that Gadreel realized just how large of a mistake he'd made. “Ah. About that.”

“What did you do?” Abner rounded on him, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to turn and face him. “You told them about Shuruppak, didn't you?”

Gadreel held up his hands, though he let Abner push him around. “Their leader had already heard. He knew who I was, _what_ I was. All I could do was protect the secrecy of Atrahasis and the mission.”

“Where are they now?” Ananiel asked.

“On their way to Shuruppak. They intend to help with building of the canals for offsetting the flood.”

Their commander sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “All right. Go warn Atrahasis and his father of their coming. I'll discuss this with Michael. I'm not sure I can sway him to allow the garrison to return, but I will try.”

She flew off, and Gadreel made to enter the village, but Abner stopped him.

“Don't tell Gabriel,” he said, hand tightening around Gadreel's arm. “Not just yet.”

“Why not? Michael and no doubt Raphael will soon know.” Gadreel wrenched his arm from his partner's grasp. “And this might directly affect Gabriel's mission. He deserves to know, Abner.”

Abner shook his head. “Precisely. It only 'might' impact the mission. There's no need to alarm Gabriel if it's not necessary.”

To Gadreel's dismay, the argument made sense. Gabriel was stretched thin as it was; he didn't need the added stress of worrying about what Namdu and his people might do. “Fine,” he said, the word fighting its way out of his throat. “But if this threat proves to be legitimate, I am going to straight to Gabriel.”

“That would be the logical thing to do,” Abner said and stepped back.

There was that cold, flat tone again, and once more Gadreel did not have occasion to make sense of it. All he could do was give his partner an odd look before running off to Atrahasis' home.

* * *

Telling Atrahasis was the easy part. Coming up with an explanation that circumvented Gadreel's status as an angel was difficult, but he managed, and Atrahasis didn't question his caution. They were on a divine mission, the _ensi_ said, and it had to be protected at all costs.

With the _lugal_ , however, Gadreel did not have that benefit. He did have Atrahasis to do most of the talking, but without being able to impress just how much was at stake convincing the king would be difficult if not impossible.

“I don't understand. We need help from the other cities, and Nippur extending a hand is a mighty gesture indeed,” Ubaratutu said, glancing between Gadreel and his son. “And you're suggesting we turn away these few who willingly want to give us aid?”

Atrahasis frowned, and Gadreel shared his frustration. “I didn't say we should turn them away, father, merely that we should be careful about letting them in. Be on our guard, if you will. Their intentions—”

“Are you questioning my judgment?” the _lugal_ asked, an edge to his tone that stopped Atrahasis in his tracks.

Gadreel decided to attempt to diffuse the situation, if only to prevent a rift from forming between father and son. “Of course not, Your Majesty, but—”

“Then it's settled.” Ubaratutu stood and started making his way out of his audience chamber. “When these men arrive from Nippur, we will happily accept their offer to help and put them to work, and there will be no protests. Am I understood?”

The _lugal_ didn't wait for them to respond before leaving.

“Damn it. Damn that stubborn old man.” Atrahasis sighed, shaking his head, and then looked back up at Gadreel. “I'm sorry, Dumuzi.”

“It's all right,” Gadreel said, despite the sense of dread that was winding through the pit of his being. “We'll at least be on our guard, and perhaps after meeting them your father will see it the same way.”

Atrahasis gave him a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. “I envy your optimism, my friend.”

He didn't have the heart to mention that that optimism wasn't his.

* * *

Three days later, Namdu and his friends arrived in Shuruppak. It was at sundown, just as he was returning Kammani to her mother's care, that Gadreel saw them, and that timing was the only thing he was grateful for.

Namdu had yet to spot him in return, when Gabriel popped up behind him, still out of sight from the rest of the villagers.

“Who is that?” the archangel asked.

“They're from Nippur, I think. I've seen a few of them during my patrols there.” Gadreel hated to lie, but Abner made a good point about not worrying Gabriel.

Gabriel moved to stand in front of him, blocking his view. “Why exactly are you lying to me?”

“I'm not—” But of course he was, and if Gabriel saw through that first lie, there was no way Gadreel was going to be able to make any further falsehood believable. “How did you know?” was all he could think to ask.

The archangel gave him a look. “I have three older brothers who think I can't handle anything and thousands of younger siblings who are told to think the same thing. You do the math.”

Belatedly Gadreel realized he no doubt looked crazy to any normal human passerby, talking to thin air, but then most didn't pay attention to the reclusive shepherd, which was part of why he chose this vessel. “I apologize, Gabriel. It's just that I know you have—”

“Gadreel, don't. Please.” Gabriel's face softened, and he crossed his arms, casting a glance back at Namdu's entourage, who were halfway up the street now. “Just tell me who these people are and why they're vaguely giving me the creeps.”

Gadreel sighed, rubbing at his neck and questioning his own logic and maybe feeling a little ridiculous for trying to protect someone who could burn him out of existence with a touch, if he chose. “They call themselves the Children of Enlil, and they are led by a man named Namdu. From what I can tell their souls are pure, but I agree with your assessment all the same.”

Gabriel nodded, as he watched the group in question. “Judging from the name, I'd say they're probably a bunch of temple shut-ins, so saying their souls are pure doesn't mean much. Anyone could be considered pure if they've never seen the light of day.” He turned back to Gadreel. “There's something you're not telling me. Again.”

He considered for a moment not giving that an honest answer, because by all rights he didn't have to. Gadreel had told Gabriel the truth, even if it wasn't all of it, but he also hadn't asked for the entire truth. However Gadreel was tired of running on technicalities, and keeping anything more from Gabriel would have been too much effort. Besides, Michael would know the same details soon, if he didn't already, and something told Gadreel that Gabriel wouldn't have appreciated the news filtering down that way.

So Gadreel told everything that he knew—Namdu and his involvement with Azazel, the warding on the temple, and how the man knew that angels were separate and different from gods.

“And odds are Ubaratutu's just going to let them in on all the little secrets of this city,” Gabriel said after he was finished.

“But there is one thing he doesn't know about,” Gadreel said. “And that's you and the mission that brought you here.”

That brought a smile back to Gabriel's face. “I'm the ace in the hole, eh? The things I would give to see Raphael's face as he comes to _that_ realization. Well, let's keep it that way. But first, we have to make sure our dear _lugal_ doesn't sell out the city.”

They followed the procession deeper into the city, and outside the _lugal's_ home Namdu was redirected to the guest house where the feast for Gabriel had been held. There Ubaratutu greeted them and bade them to sit and eat and drink their fill.

Gadreel stuck to the back of the room, so he could observe the scene. As the _lugal_ promised before, Namdu and his people were heartily accepted, and already work assignments were being made. Atrahasis did his best to hide his displeasure at the event, smiling in agreement whenever his father looked his way, but there was no hiding his stiff posture and crossed arms as the talks proceeded.

At the end of the evening, which may very well have been morning by the time all was said and done, Namdu at last took notice of Gadreel. He seemed to have some sense of tact and waited until they—and Gabriel—were both outside and out of the view of curious villagers to speak to him.

“Thank you, Dumuzi, for informing the _lugal_. It is good to meet a man of his word. Honor is rare in these dark times.”

Something about the way he said that word, the emphasis he placed on “dark”, hit a nerve, making Gadreel's jaw clench and his wings bristle. Gabriel straightened, and his brow furrowed, but his gaze was directed at Gadreel. Despite the unease, he pressed on. “It would have been foolish of me to not accommodate such a generous offer, my friend. Shuruppak is glad for your help.”

“And we are glad to help.” Namdu clapped him on the shoulder, causing Gadreel to jump despite himself. “Well, I am off to get some sleep. Lots of work for tomorrow, eh?”

Gabriel waited until the man was back inside the guest house before talking. “He is creepier in-person.”

Gadreel nodded, shuddering a little. “I couldn't even tell you why, but there's something about him that's simply… off.”

The archangel ran a hand over his bristled feathers, one wing wrapping around Gadreel's. “That would be your instincts talking, and you should trust them. Keep this guy at arm's length, and for the love of Dad keep him away from Atrahasis, if it can be helped.”

“It's not him so much that I'm worried about,” Gadreel said. Under Gabriel's touch he found himself relaxing, even though by all rights he shouldn't have let his guard down. The archangel seemed to be good at creating exceptions for himself that way. “It's Kammani. He knows me, and I fear he will soon know about her. I cannot see that going well.”

“Hmm.” Gabriel leaned against him, resting his chin on Gadreel's shoulder. “I should be able to finish delivering my messages in a few weeks. If you can just hold him off until then, I'll be back to help you keep Kammani safe.”

Perhaps by then Michael would have made a decision regarding the garrison, which would give extra insurance, but Gadreel didn't think about that in that moment. Somehow Gabriel's assurance was enough. He tilted his head to rest against Gabriel's. “Thank you.”


	8. The Runaway Cart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as it looks like things are settled in Shuruppak, Fate proves she has a hand to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, this is over a day late, and I'm so, so sorry guys. Life kinda grabbed me by the back of the neck like a mama cat, and I was a helpless kitten for a bit. It wasn't cute. Hopefully no more insidious delays like this one ever again! I'm sure as hell gonna try. Also, if you get the chapter title reference after reading this, I will love you forever.

It was at the next twilight after Namdu's arrival, while Abner was handing the watch off to Gadreel, that Ananiel came back from Heaven, and this time she was not alone.

Hester, Bartholomew, and Inias touched down behind Ananiel, and Gadreel had never felt a greater sense of relief.

“Michael decided deploying the garrison again was worth it, I take it?” Abner asked after they had landed.

The rest of the garrison didn't bat an eyelash at Abner's uncharacteristic brusque tone; Ananiel must have warned them about his new oddities, and Gadreel wished he'd had a chance to speak to her in private about the matter.

Ananiel nodded. “Though it wasn't the matter of these newcomers that concerned him precisely, but that is irrelevant. We're here now to help.” Her voice wavered, however briefly, and Gadreel tried not to wonder at what she left unsaid. Perhaps Gabriel was right about being lucky in having a post on Earth.

Bartholomew barged onward, ignorant as usual to anything less than the fall of a hammer upon an anvil. “And it looks like we're just in time, though I will hand it to you two. Sumer isn't in _complete_ shambles.”

The backhanded compliment seemed to bring Ananiel round to her usual self, commanding Bartholomew into repentant silence with a look. “Gadreel, Abner, rest for now. You've done well. We'll take up the routes as before, centering our focus on Nippur and Bad-tibira, since the trouble seems to be coming from those cities.”

As the others, including Abner, flew off, Ananiel remained, watching Gadreel's partner until he disappeared from even their sight. She frowned and turned to Gadreel. “How long has he been acting so… odd?”

“Since an encounter with the thieves guild in Bad-tibira. It changed him, I think,” Gadreel said, resisting the urge to tack on an “I told you so”, though he wouldn't have been entirely out of line for doing so. He sensed that fact didn't escape his commander's notice, not that he doubted it would. There always seemed to be an understanding between them, and if the idea didn't present a conflict of interest, he would've counted Ananiel among his few friends.

“You were right about that. I should've given your warnings more weight, and for that I am sorry,” Ananiel said, sighing. “Tell me everything that's happened.. Maybe together we can fix this.”

Gadreel wasn't so sure, but if Gabriel had taught him anything it was that keeping secrets never led anywhere good.

* * *

“You know, we just might pull this off.”

Gadreel and Gabriel sat on the roof of Dumuzi's modest mud-brick home. They'd been there since nightfall, celebrating Gabriel's official return to Shuruppak with easy conversation and a small jar of beer set between them while avoiding the more serious and looming subjects. So Gabriel's statement came as a bit of a surprise.

“Well, everything's going according to plan. Eridu had already started digging when I arrived, which means word's getting around a lot faster than we anticipated.” Gabriel was leaning back on his elbows, so he had to crane his neck to take a sip from the jar, giving a satisfied smack of his lips when he did so successfully. “And we might even be wrong about Namdu. It's been, what, a month since he showed up? He hasn't done anything suspicious yet.”

“Perhaps,” Gadreel said, nodding. “Though I feel like we should remain cautious until everything is said and done.”

Gabriel made a noise in his throat. “Of course. How's the garrison doing with the thieves guild?”

To have avoided the subject forever would have been too much to ask, wouldn't it? Still, of the archangels who could be posing that question to him, Gadreel was glad it was Gabriel. “We've made some headway, but they keep outsmarting us somehow. Even when we're shielded, they seem to know we're coming, and they constantly change hideouts. I don't like it.”

“Damn psychics. Rather, damn psychics who misuse their power.” Gabriel reached out a wing and wrapped it around Gadreel. “Don't worry, you'll get them. You guys are the finest garrison we've got.”

Gadreel wasn't sure how to handle that compliment, because he'd only ever considered his garrison to be, well, just another garrison. He landed on just smiling at the archangel.

Gabriel smiled back, the warmth in that expression making Gadreel feel light and dizzy. Or perhaps that was the beer.

They reclined in silence for a bit, watching as the sky started to streak pink, orange, and gold. Below them the sounds of the village awaking could be heard, and already there were shouts coming from the workers' shelters placed near the canals.

“What's going on?” Gabriel raised his head and an eyebrow with it.

“I'm not sure.” Gadreel edged his Grace forward, just enough to get a look at the situation. “There seems to be an argument between Namdu's men and one of the village scribes.”

The archangel sat up, leaning on Gadreel for leverage without apology. “Do you want me to handle it?”

“No, I will. It will look suspicious if Ki of Eridu starts mediating Shuruppak affairs,” Gadreel said and began climbing down the roof. While his statement wasn't untrue, it was more that Gadreel wanted to keep Gabriel away from Namdu and his compatriots, just in case.

“Perhaps if you'd designed it correctly, you wouldn't need to fix it now!” one of Namdu's men was yelling as Gadreel approached.

The scribe was red in the face, eyes bugging out of his head. “Just let my men inside to fix the roof! Or would you like it to fall in and kill one of you in your sleep?”

Gadreel tried to step in, before the situation got even more out of hand. “Gentlemen, please.”

Namdu emerged from the shelter in question, which in fairness to the scribe did appear in need of repair, and took notice of Gadreel. “Dumuzi! I'm glad you're here. Perhaps you can settle this for us.”

His friend crossed his arms and scowled. “There's nothing to settle. This moron just needs to stay out of our shelter. If there's a problem, we'll fix it ourselves.”

“Come now,” Namdu said, a hint of exasperation in his voice, and for once Gadreel sympathized. “The King has commissioned this scribe to help us. The least we can do is—”

On cue a section of the shelter's roof caved, the reeds giving with a loud creak. Shouting erupted, and Namdu's compatriot swung at the scribe, who was smart enough to get out of the way, while Namdu started for the shelter.

“Dumuzi!” came his voice over the din. “There is someone still inside!”

 _Want some help now?_ Gabriel asked Gadreel across their Graces.

Gadreel risked a glance towards Dumuzi's house, and Gabriel still sat on the roof. He gauged the situation; the reeds wouldn't be heavy, enough to overwhelm one overworked man but nothing two men at full strength couldn't handle. And the ill feeling in his gut persisted. It was Gabriel himself who had told him to trust his by instincts.

_Unless it's more than I think it is, no._

_Okay, just… don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it, all right?_

There was too much in his tone for Gadreel to let himself think about at the moment, tried to ignore how everything in his Grace told him to turn around and wrap his wings around Gabriel and let the rest of the world be damned. That was a dangerous thought to entertain, one that could not end well regardless of the circumstances.

So Gadreel pushed it down and aside, locked all of it away where it couldn't tempt him, and said to the archangel as neutral as he could manage, _Thank you, Gabriel._

And then he was rushing into the shelter behind Namdu, the scribe behind him. The section of the roof that fell was towards the back, over the sleeping area, where reed mats and wool blankets donated from village families served as beds.

“Namdu!” came a muffled cry from underneath the pile of mud-cemented reeds.

Gadreel rounded the far side of the pile, while Namdu took up the opposite side. The scribe hung back, clutching the tablet in his arms like it would accomplish something.

Namdu nodded at Gadreel, as they both crouched down and found handholds in the reeds. “On my mark.”

He counted to three, and together they heaved the pile up and off the poor person underneath. It turned out to be a boy, a young and frail thing who looked like he should not have been doing the heavy labor Namdu's people were helping with in Shuruppak.

The boy scrambled out of the shelter with a rushed thank you to his rescuers, and the scribe followed him, head held high. Gadreel was about to as well, when he noticed that Namdu had dropped to a sitting position, curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his chest, like he was trying to make himself disappear. And then Gadreel realized why.

“You're hurt,” Gadreel said, though the question surprised even him. Concern for humanity overrode his instinctual dislike of this particular man, as it turned out.

The man waved him off. “It's just a scratch, nothing I can't patch up. I'll be fine, though I appreciate your concern, Dumuzi.”

Gadreel frowned, because that was the first time Namdu had ever outright lied to him, as far as he could tell. He knelt in front of him and pulled his arms away to reveal a scratch that went down the left side of his chest. Namdu's tunic had caught a lot of the blood, but the cloth had become oversaturated and left a thick trail on the man's skin.

“From the look on your face, I'd say it's worse than I thought,” Namdu said, giving a weak laugh. “There are some bandages and spare cloth by the entrance, if you insist on playing cleric. Injuries are not an uncommon thing here.”

As Gadreel grabbed up the supplies and set to fixing up Namdu, he asked, “And you haven't told the _lugal_ about this?”

Namdu shook his head. “It is hard, hazardous work. The _lugal_ would do nothing, except perhaps turn us out for complaining.”

No, he wanted to say, Ubaratutu was a fairer man than that, but in his ten years of living among humans, Gadreel had learned not to argue with a man who had lost a large amount of blood, so he continued his work in silence.

When he got to the bandaging, the tunic kept getting in the way, so Gadreel asked Namdu to remove it. The man did so, but not without hesitation and deliberately keeping his eyes averted from Gadreel's. He was about to go on a diatribe about how modesty was pointless, but then he spotted a mark peeking over the waist of Namdu's kilt, a tattoo.

A lion head wreathed in flame, crude and small as it was. The symbol struck a chord in Gadreel, but he pushed it aside and completed his task without further comment.

Namdu mumbled his thanks, and Gadreel didn't stick around to give the man another opportunity to speak.

Gabriel was at the edge of the crowd that had formed outside the shelter, an eyebrow raised. Gadreel made for him, but Bartholomew appeared just to the side of the archangel. It was time for his patrol. With an apologetic glance to Gabriel, Gadreel edged his way to a quiet alley and took wing.

* * *

In the wake of the garrison's return, Gadreel returned to his old patrol route, including Bad-tibira. The thieves guild had long since moved out of their hideout there, and the city was far safer without them, though the traces remained. Their departure in and of itself had been messy, and in their haste had left behind all kinds of evidence and clues to follow.

 _Nergal's symbol._ The thought came to Gadreel in his vessel's voice, a link that was usually silent unless he provoked it.

And then the memory hit him—the thief he'd been tracking nearly two months ago, the cramped alley, and the odd brick and crack in the wall.

Gadreel made his way back to that alley and sought out the symbol again. He couldn't quite conjure it in his brain, so he was taken aback when his eyes slid over the carving in the brick, frozen for a long moment, trying to put all the pieces together and convince himself it was all real.

A lion-headed mace surrounded by flames. Nergal's symbol. The calling card of the thieves guild. Which could only mean…

Namdu _knew_.


	9. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate's hand is tipped, and true colors begin to show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I did not mean for this to get dragged out this long. I don't think I have enough "I'm sorry"s to fill the, what, month long gap. Holiday anxiety is a bitch, apparently, but this fic is far too important to me. Hopefully this will not happen again, but I'm loosening to what's left of my posting schedule to say that there will be no more than two weeks between chapters. That's my goal anyway. So, here, have a chapter. I'm gonna go either collapse or practice my rotten tomato dodging.
> 
> (Also, if you notice any kind of theme in the chapter titles, I will give you all the awards and half the cookies. Sorry, Gabriel ate the other half.)

_Namdu knew._ He was part of the thieves guild or at minimum connected to them. There was a good chance he was aware of the rest of the garrison's presence in Shuruppak, maybe even Gabriel as well. Everything was in jeopardy, had been for over a month, because Gadreel had failed to think of this possibility. It could all come crashing down because of _him_.

Gadreel debated completing his route or circling back to Shuruppak in light of this new information. On one hand, if Namdu had yet to make his move before now, he wasn't likely to before Gadreel returned. If he suspected Gadreel knew, however, if he was as smart as all of this indicated—

“I was wondering when one of you angels would come sniffing around here again.”

A woman appeared at the entrance of the alleyway, normal except for the fact that she knew of the existence of angels and identified Gadreel as one. That left few possibilities as to her identity.

So Gadreel took a stab at one of them. “You must be one of the members of the thieves guild.”

“Glad to see some of you aren't as dense as Azazel made you out to be,” the wpman said as she approached. “Which means you must be Dumuzi. Namdu mentioned how especially bright your halo was.”

That confirmed it, then. Gadreel bit down a curse, and the woman—the _thief_ —continued, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“You know, if I wasn't confident of his dedication to the cause, I'd be worried.” The woman paused in her advance and shook her head, a glint in her eyes that Gadreel could only call dangerous.

He had to stall, talk the woman down, something. There was no need for bloodshed here, so Gadreel indulged her, just to keep her talking. “The cause?”

A short, harsh laugh fell from the thief's throat. “You don't expect me to fall for that, do you?”

This time Gadreel did curse. Only one road was available to him now. “I had to try.”

“I'll give you credit for the effort, but my father taught us better.” Before Gadreel could question that too, the woman lunged at him, sending them both to the ground with a surprising amount of force.

Somehow with one hand the woman held down Gadreel and with the other brandished an angel blade from within her dress. Gadreel felt a familiar jolt upon seeing the weapon, Grace he'd felt before, and it wasn't Azazel's.

The thief held the blade against Gadreel's throat, and it would've been easy for her to end his life, but she didn't. Instead she drew it out, looming over the angel with a smug grin. “You know, I honestly thought this would be more difficult. You don't live up to the hype, Dumuzi.”

If Gadreel didn't know better, he would've thought the woman was waiting, but for what and why, when she had Gadreel so plainly at his mercy, was impossible to say. Gadreel wished she would just do something.

_You have to get back to Shuruppak now!_

Between the urgency in that voice and the blade at his throat, it took Gadreel a moment to process who was calling for him.

_Just a moment, Gabriel._

The archangel's voice was steady but thin, even speaking like this. _Everything okay?_

The last thing he needed was for Gabriel to come here, to actually alert the thieves to his presence, if they didn't already know. It was the only way Gadreel could think of to salvage the situation. _I should be asking you that._

And, of course, Gabriel saw through his deflection. _Right. Just get back here. Atrahasis has been asking for you._

Atrahasis? It couldn't have been about the Flood, because he would be spoken to Gabriel first. Then it had to be…

His will renewed, Gadreel grabbed the thief by the arms and threw her off, watching her tumble into a wall across the alley with a small amount of satisfaction. The thief had the last laugh, however, because as she rolled away, the blade knicked Gadreel's throat, drawing from him a hiss and far more ichor than he liked.

But he didn't, couldn't, let that slow him down. He had to get back to Shuruppak, to Gabriel, to Kammani, before something terrible befell them, if it hadn't already.

When he landed in the field outside Shuruppak, Gabriel was waiting for him, though he could sense neither Abner or any other members of his garrison in the city.

Gabriel was at his side before his feet were flat on the ground. “Gadreel! What in Dad's name happened to you?”

“Just a scuffle with the thieves guild, nothing serious,” Gadreel said, trying to wave off the archangel, though after he felt his Grace waver he let Gabriel worry over him. He didn't have the energy for bravado at the moment.

The archangel soothed the cut on his throat away with a hand and a touch of his Grace, gentler than any treatment he'd ever received from one of Raphael's healers, and Gadreel had been in his fair share of scrapes. “Serious enough that you could've bled out. I can't believe you flew like this.”

Gadreel shrugged, leaning into the embrace as Gabriel wrapped his wings around him. The light and warmth of his Grace was a balm to Gadreel's spirit, though he felt guilty and unworthy indulging in it. “I didn't have much choice. You mentioned Atrahasis before?”

“It might be nothing, but with everything going on, I figured it'd be worth calling you back for, even just to investigate.” Gabriel frowned, biting his lip. He could be so human sometimes; it was unfair to an extent. “Atrahasis, he… he can't find Kammani anywhere. I know she's good at hide-and-seek, but this is a little ridiculous.”

It was as he feared. There was little else that it could've been. With a sigh he said, “Your worry might be warranted. I mean, I tried to be as careful as I could with keeping Kammani and my connection to her unknown to Namdu, but it's not impossible that—”

“What does Namdu have to do with this?” Gabriel stood up straighter, all six of his golden wings bristling. “This is about what happened in that shelter, isn't it?”

With utter dread Gadreel said the words for the first time aloud. “Namdu is part of the thieves guild.”

While he wasn't sure how Gabriel would react, quiet resignation would not have been high on that list. “Damn it,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “All right, so how do we track him down? I can't imagine he'd be keeping her at their shelter.”

“No. I'm sure Atrahasis checked there before coming to find me.” Guilt gnawed at the pit of Gadreel's stomach. He wasn't careful enough–he'd led Namdu here, let him in, let the villagers trust him without question. If anything happened to Kammani, it would be Gadreel's fault.

“Hey.” Gabriel's expression softened, and his wings relaxed, curling back around Gadreel for a moment. “We'll get her back. Don't worry.”

For the first time, Gabriel's word alone wasn't enough to convince Gadreel. All the same he nodded and gave the archangel a small smile, though he knew it wasn't enough to convince him. He cleared his throat and forced his mind to focus on the problem at hand, and perhaps it was that effort that made the solution apparent. “Namdu might be easier to find than we think.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The warding in Nippur,” Gadreel said, already casting out his Grace to search for Namdu. “He knows how to use it. So wherever he's hiding—”

“Will be the one place where we can't sniff him out!” Gabriel grinned, and Gadreel could feel his Grace start to fan out as well. “You're a genius, Gad.”

Now was perhaps the wrong time for it, but somehow despite the unease in his heart, Gadreel found himself smiling back at the archangel.

They were able to find Namdu's hideout in short order. Gadreel had every corner of Shuruppak indexed in his memory, so it stood out when the combined force of their Graces hit a block. It turned out to be the grain silo near the _lugal's_ residence, a place Atrahasis would never have thought to have looked. The guards normally posted outside the silo were gone, and there was no Enochian graffiti either, like there had been in Nippur.

“The sigils must be on the inside,” Gabriel said, and from the corner of his eye Gadreel could see the archangel give him a worried look. “Which means he knew wants to be found. Inside we'll probably be powerless.”

Gadreel took a breath he didn't need and clenched his jaw. “All that matters is getting Kammani back.”

“Even if that means—”

“Yes.” Gadreel didn't have to wait for Gabriel to say it, didn't hesitate in his answer. Sumer was in his garrison's charge. Kammani was _his_ charge. He wouldn't let Namdu get away with this.

Something shifted in Gabriel's Grace, but Gadreel didn't have time to examine it, the archangel pressing forward into the silo without another word.

Once past the threshold, it felt like they were being suffocated, Graces muffled, and wings pinned to their backs. Midday sunlight, slanting in through small windows cut out of the brick near the ceiling, revealed messy sigils and Enochian symbols strewn across the walls to be the source of the sequester of their powers, bigger and more numerous than the ones Gadreel had seen in Nippur.

“You all right?” Gabriel asked, pausing in a pool of light.

He couldn't work up the energy to lie to the archangel, not when it was taking all of his focus just to stay conscious. “Come on,” was all he said, voice rough like he hadn't used it in days.

“Dumuzi!” came Kammani's voice from the shadows, and then she was running out and tackling Gadreel in hug. She pulled back just enough to look up at him. “You're late.”

By some miracle she was whole and safe and even happy, and Gadreel took what comfort he could in that. Namdu wasn't a complete monster, it would seem. He tried to smile back at her. “Late for what, little one?”

Kammani frowned. “Namdu said you were going to come and play hide-and-seek with us.” She glanced over to Gabriel, and her frown deepened. “But you're not, are you?”

The archangel answered for him, giving Kammani a little smile. “Sorry, kiddo. I've got to talk to Namdu alone, plus your _ada_ is looking for you.”

Namdu chose then to step into what light could be found, but between the sigils and the shadows, Gadreel couldn't make out much more than his presence.

Panic clawed at Gadreel's throat, because even if Gabriel was the more powerful being, Namdu had the advantage here, and Gadreel wasn't about to let the archangel face him alone. “Ki,” was all he could manage, before Gabriel cut him off with a look.

“Go,” he said, nodding towards the entrance, tone brooking no argument.

Gadreel's feet felt bound to the floor, until Kammani tugged on his hand and started pulling him towards the entrance. In his disoriented state, it was enough to get him moving. He tried to keep from looking back, so as to not worry Kammani, but just before they stepped outside, Gadreel risked a glance. Neither Gabriel or Namdu had moved, but Gabriel's Grace was coiling in on itself, forming what armor it could, while Namdu held his gaze on Gadreel.


	10. The Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holding to one's convictions can have disastrous consequences, for all parties involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey, look who's posting relatively on time and shit. This chapter has been a labor of blood, sweat, and tears, almost literally, but it's also cleared up so much for the rest of this story that I can't help but be grateful for all the trouble. I hope you guys enjoy, and I promise that from here out I will do my best to keep no more than two weeks between chapter postings.

Out in the fresh air, away from the oppressive magic of the sigils, Gadreel was able to breathe freely, leaning against the silo and sucking air in and out of lungs to calm himself despite the lack of inherent necessity.

“Dumuzi?” Kammani asked, and only now could Gadreel tell how scared she was.

“I'm all right, little one,” he said, though he wasn't sure how convincing he was. Gadreel crouched and looked her in the eye. “What about you? Did Namdu hurt you?”

Kammani shook her head. “No, but he… he was acting strange. And he had this funny-looking knife that he would take out and look at before putting it back, and he kept saying your name. I thought he was going to hurt you.” She hugged him again, face buried in his tunic. “I hope Ki is okay.”

She was truly her father's daughter, Gadreel thought as he held her tight. If–when, he tried to remind himself—Shuruppak survived the Flood, Kammani would make a fine _lugal_ or _ensi_ , and he'd like to see anyone try to stop her just because she was female.

“Ki is strong and quick like you. He'll be all right,” Gadreel said, and even though he believed it, worry settled in his heart anew.

“There you are!”

Angel and child looked up to see Atrahasis running towards them. His eyes lit up when they landed on Kammani, and she ran into her father's arms without a second's hesitation.

Atrahasis picked her up and then turned to Gadreel. “Where was she? What happened?”

“Namdu,” Gadreel said by way of explanation, inclining his head towards the silo.

The _ensi_ sighed, the same thoughts of regret and blame running through his head that Gadreel had experienced. “Well, thank you for finding her.”

“Of course.” Gadreel nodded, though he couldn't help glancing at the silo's entrance and frowning. The action didn't escape Atrahasis' notice, raising a questioning eyebrow at Gadreel. There was no sense in hiding it, not when Atrahasis was perhaps the one human he could trust. “Ki is in there.”

“So it's come to that,” Atrahasis said. He hesitated and then looked back at Gadreel. “You're not going back in there, are you?”

Gadreel straightened, unnerved by the observation and chalking it up to Atrahasis' intelligence more than his own transparency. “I must.”

“Dumuzi, don't. It's not safe,” Kammani said, eyes wide.

Her father soothed a hand over her hair. “She's right, though I can see we won't be able to convince you otherwise.” Atrahasis shook his head, smiling just a little. “You've never failed to surprise me, Dumuzi. I'll give you that. Just be careful, all right? Come back to us. That's all I ask.”

“I will do my best,” Gadreel said, returning the _ensi's_ smile as well as he could before ducking back into the silo.

He was more prepared for the effects of the sigils this time, bolstering all of his internal defenses just before stepping inside. The magic weaved around him, tried to go through him as before but only managed to constrict around his vessel like a snake, threatening to suffocate him if not for his Grace.

Gabriel seemed to have mastered the same trick in his few moments longer inside. His Grace lashed out at the magic, never making headway, but the effort was enough. He had managed to summon his blade, though he kept it at his side rather than leveling it at Namdu.

“Look, you seem like a reasonable man, except for the kidnapping and the affiliation with thieves. Whatever your issue is, I'm sure we can talk this out,” Gabriel was saying.

Namdu laughed. “My father warned me about you. Gabriel, right? He said not to let you talk, because you would always trick us in the end.”

“You have no right to speak of trickery, Namdu,” Gadreel said, stepping as close to the pair as he dared. “I've never met a human with your skill at deception. Did your father teach you that as well?”

The man turned to face Gadreel, and he frowned. “He did, though out of necessity. I never—” Namdu sighed. “We could debate all day about who of us is the more deceptive, but that is not why I brought you here.” Something passed over his face, something in his current state Gadreel couldn't identify, but it was clear that when Namdu said “you”, he wasn't referring to Gabriel.

“Then why?” Gabriel asked, and Namdu hardly spared him a glance in answer.

Instead he stepped closer to Gadreel, and it took a good deal of his willpower not to take a matching step back. “I'm giving you an opportunity, Dumuzi, a chance. The last one you'll get, if my brothers' reports are true.”

Gadreel tensed, and his head started to spin. What game was the thieves guild playing? And why was he a part of it? “A chance at what? I don't understand.”

“To change the direction of Fate. We still have time. All it would take is a word to my brothers, and it would be done. They wouldn't question it, not with me vouching for you.” Namdu took another step towards Gadreel, close enough now to put a hand on his arm, grip tighter than the angel anticipated. What a strange brand of psychic power to come with such strength. “Please, Dumuzi. This doesn't have to be you.”

There were so many implications in his statement but even more in his tone, pleading and desperate in a way that the sigils couldn't hide. Gadreel felt a shred of pity for the man, but it wasn't enough to move him, not now. He found it in him then to pull out of Namdu's grasp, almost losing his footing with the effort. “You would have it be someone else? I'd rather take my chances, whatever your plans are.”

Namdu smiled, small and sad, and a twinge of guilt twisted Gadreel's stomach, ineffective in all ways except catching the angel by surprise. “Of course. So be it, then.”

A bang sounded from the silo door. “Namdu of Nippur, by order of the _lugal_ of Shuruppak, you are under arrest. Come out here quietly, and no one need be hurt.”

The voice belonged to the captain of the guard; that much Gadreel could tell. Atrahasis must have gotten word to his father quickly. Namdu straightened, but Gabriel stepped in front of him.

“Look, this is us giving _you_ a chance,” the archangel said, his wings flaring out as far as they could under the weight of warding. Gadreel found himself leaning into even that meager display of Grace, drawing strength from it. “All you have to do is cooperate with us, and you'll make it out of this alive.”

“I suppose that's fair,” Namdu said, strained laughter at the edges of his words. “I offer you a chance to betray your beliefs, so you pay me the same kindness.” He swallowed, and his eyes met Gadreel's once more. “Then you must know what my answer will be.”

Gabriel tensed, gripping his blade tighter. “Namdu, don't.”

But the man didn't listen. He pushed them both aside, sending them rolling in opposite directions, and made a beeline for the exit.

“Damn it,” Gabriel said, coughing as he rose to his feet.

Gadreel followed him out wordlessly, his mind too occupied with worry and things he didn't want to name for him to speak.

By the time they emerged from the silo, Namdu was being held by four big, brawny guards, and even with their combined strength they appeared to be struggling to contain him.

The captain glanced at Gabriel when they approached, nodding just so before returning his attention to Namdu. “You will be brought before the _lugal_. It is up to you whether or not you'll be alive for the proceedings.”

“Listen to him, Namdu,” Gabriel said. His wings stretched to their full extent now, and he seemed taller somehow, commanding even with his blade tucked away, every inch an archangel. Namdu winced and averted his gaze, though there was a flash of anger in his eyes. “Don't make this any harder on yourself.”

Namdu laughed, bitter and sharp, all of his earlier desperation what might've passed for warmth gone. “I'm done listening to you, _Ki_.” And then his tone shifted into something ancient, something unearthly, and it took Gadreel a moment to realize Namdu was speaking Enochian, though his delivery was stilted, rehearsed. “The children of Azazel will overrun the children of Heaven, and not even your Father can save you from us. This is all the warning you'll receive.”

“Enough of this. Silence him,” the captain said with a growl.

As a fifth guard raised his hand, sword-hilt grasped, to heed the order, Namdu wrenched one harm free and used it to knock back the man and take hold of his blade. The others scrambled to stop him, but Namdu pushed them all down, one falling against Gadreel with a groan.

Instead of turning tail and running, Namdu advanced on Gabriel, who stood firm, though without resorting to magic he was weaponless. Without thinking, Gadreel took up the nearest sword and moved to intercept Namdu. The man couldn't change course fast enough and fell upon the blade, eyes going wide as it was embedded into his stomach.

Together they sunk to the ground, Gadreel unable to release the hilt despite himself. He never enjoyed taking human life, even ones like this one.

“I'm sorry, Dumuzi,” Namdu said, breath ragged and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He grabbed at Gadreel's tunic and touched their foreheads together, eyes meeting in a mockery of a lover's embrace, though Gadreel couldn't find it in him to pull away. “We could have… We deserved… more.”

Gadreel felt Namdu's soul pass over, through him as it left his body. Everything the sigils hid, everything the man had left unsaid, became clear, leaving Gadreel with regret that lingered even as he let go of the blade, and Namdu's body slumped, lifeless, to the dirt with a dull thud.

Gabriel pulled him to his feet, and Gadreel was grateful, because he was unsure he could have done it himself. “You okay?”

He lacked an immediate answer to that question. Gadreel was adrift in emotions, some his own but most once belonging to the corpse that lie on the ground, and he couldn't fathom why he allowed himself to be affected so.

The archangel rested a hand on his neck, thumb easing down his jaw. Gentle as it was on the surface, Gadreel could feel that touch in his very Grace, and it was enough to get at least his voice working again.

“I don't know,” he said, and Gabriel nodded in return, as though he understood. Perhaps he did. Gadreel appreciated his effort either way.

“Dumuzi?”

They turned to see Atrahasis pushing his way through the crowd that had formed around them. Gabriel took a step back to let him in close, so their words had a lesser chance of being overheard.

Atrahasis glanced down at Namdu's body, and a cloud passed over his face. “I'm glad I got Kammani away in time. She's been through enough today.”

“How is she?” Gadreel asked, his voice rougher than he would have liked.

The _ensi_ looked at Gadreel, his expression shifting to the same concern Gabriel had displayed. “She puts on a brave face, but I can tell she's shaken. Though she did ask about you.”

Gabriel smiled, and whether the archangel knew it or not, that gesture did much to dispel the fog that hung over Gadreel's heart and mind. “She takes after you, you know.”

“By Ninlil, I hope not. And if she does, it can all be traced back to her mother,” Atrahasis said with a small chuckle. He turned back to Gadreel. “You should visit Kammani before the day is out, otherwise she might go stalking about the village for you.”

Gadreel nodded, doing his best to put on a smile, though he couldn't be sure he accomplished anything more than an imperceptible twist of his lips. “I will, don't worry.”

Atrahasis looked unsure, but he took his leave without another word.

“I should go inform the garrison of these events,” Gadreel said, and he made to head off to the fields.

The archangel grabbed him by the shoulder before he could get far. “Go see Kammani first. I'll take care of the garrison. But before you do, you should, ah. You're still…”

He made a vague gesture downwards, bringing to Gadreel's attention a surprising amount of blood on his tunic.

Gabriel shook his head and started guiding him in the opposite direction, towards Dumuzi's house. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

Either of them could have cleared it away with less than a blink, but Gadreel wasn't going to argue the reprieve being offered to him, not after this ordeal.


	11. There's No Comfort in the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which various truths are uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, now the ball is really rolling. I'm not making any more promises about posting dates, but I will say I've figured out a way to write consistently, so there's that. And I just want to take a moment to say that if there is anyone eagerly awaiting updates and sticking with me through these times of drought, just know that I love you and appreciate you immensely. Thank you so, so much. :)

Once he was clean of blood and had regained his composure—more thanks to Gabriel's efforts than his own—Gadreel made for Atrahasis' home, while Gabriel headed off to the fields to brief the garrison on the situation.

When Gadreel approached the palace gates, the guards let him through before he could even open his mouth. The instant acceptance felt strange, as did the respect in the guards' eyes as he passed. Pretending to be a mere shepherd was far easier to stomach than this.

The _ensi_ lived in his own suite of apartments on the west side of his father's palace, as his position afforded him, through the main courtyard and past the throne room and civil offices. There was a smaller courtyard that served as the entrance to Atrahasis' chambers, this one adorned with benches and a few apple trees, which appeared to be of the same stock as those in the orchard. Another pair of guards stood at the far end of this inner courtyard, and with a nod they let him inside.

The main room was empty and dark, save for what afternoon light the two windows facing the courtyard allowed, setting the room in a strange, half-gold glow. All the furniture seemed to be in its proper place, several low stools tucked under tables of matching cypress with a few deep-dyed wool cushions and extra reed mats piled in a neat stack in the corner of the room.

It almost looked as though it wasn't lived in, and before Gadreel's eyes the room was covered in dust and dirt, windows blocked in by mud and silt and all the furnishings crumbling to bits. A bright, ringing laugh above him broke the stillness, and the image faded, but Gadreel was left with its mark.

Shaking his head, Gadreel climbed the stairs near the entrance. They led to an enclosed balcony adjacent to bedrooms for Atrahasis and his family. Kammani and her mother Iltani sat on a mat in the center of the balcony, a clay tablet between them.

“And Anu gave the five cities—Sippar, Shuruppak, Bad-tibira, Larsa, and Eridu— _lugals_ to rule and protect them,” Kammani was saying, her eyes directed at the tablet but unfocused. This reading was from memory, Gadreel knew. She had told it to him once out in the fields, proud in her near-flawless recitation.

Iltani looked up from the tablet, and a gentle smile crossed her face. “Dumuzi. My husband mentioned you might be by. I'm glad to see that you're all right after that ordeal.”

“It isn't me you should be worried for, but I thank you all the same,” Gadreel said with a nod. He looked down at Kammani, who was beaming up at him. “How are you doing, little one?”

She scooted closer to her mother and held out an arm on her other side, indicating for him to sit. Gadreel obliged, though there was a part of him that warned him against it. Maintaining closeness to the people of Shuruppak could not end well for him, or them for that matter, but he decided to deal with that at a later date. Distancing himself now would rouse suspicion, and he no doubt had enough to deal with from forces both human and angelic.

“I'm all right,” Kammani said, shaking Gadreel from his thoughts. From his perspective, Gadreel could see the corners of her mouth turn down, and she kept her eyes focused on the tablet as she asked, “Is Namdu…?”

Gadreel didn't let her finish the question. She didn't have to; it was all too clear what she meant, though finding an elegant answer was difficult, if not impossible. “Ki and I took care of him. He can't hurt anyone now.”

Mother and daughter both sighed, Iltani closing her eyes and shaking her head. She ran her fingers through Kammani's dark hair. “We should get supper ready for your _ada_ , Lilu. Why don't you go to the kitchens and fetch some dates for us, hmm?”

Kammani took a split-second too long to answer. She was concerned and a touch indignant at being sent out of the room, while the adults talked. “Yes, _Ama_.”

“Thank you.” Iltani waited until she was down the stairs to speak again. “You did the right thing, you know.”

The angel nodded. “I had no choice. I shudder to think about the number of people Namdu would have hurt if we had not stopped him.”

She leaned back, studying him, and Gadreel wondered how much her mortal eyes saw. “Yet you don't sound convinced.”

“It's—” Gadreel paused, trying to compose the swirl of emotions not his own within him. Traces of Namdu's spirit clung to him, muddling what he knew to be truth and the irrational ramblings of a man poisoned by a Fallen angel. He forced out a breath in the hopes it would take some of those thoughts with it. “I just wish there had been another way,” he landed on at last.

“Sometimes the gods choose our paths for us,” Iltani said, that gentle smile returning to her face. “We are grateful for your actions today, if that helps any.”

“It does. Thank you.” Gadreel smiled back, trying not to think about how true her statement became when “gods” was changed to the singular. Instead he put his mind to something else. “You called Kammani 'Lilu'. I've heard you use that name before. It's Akkadian, isn't it?”

Iltani raised an eyebrow at the subject change but refrained from commenting on it. “Mm. Among my people, it is a wind spirit, and from when Kammani was little, there was something different about her. A light in her eyes, in her laughter. Her father and I could think of no better personal name for her.”

It was the purity of her spirit leaking through, Gadreel wanted to say. Children were innocent by default, but Kammani's soul from birth was brighter, rare. “It suits her,” was all Gadreel said aloud.

“'She will be a child of change', an old priestess of Enki told me once.” Iltani frowned. “I can only hope she meant good things by that.”

How wished he could promise her that it would, and perhaps not long ago he might have, but there was too much uncertainty now. Gadreel could not lie to these humans he'd grown to care so much for, not even about something as simple as this.

Kammani returned before Gadreel was forced to say anything, balancing a tray of dates and bread as she ascended the stairs.

“Will you stay for dinner, Dumuzi?” she asked once she was settled again.

Gadreel shook his head. “I cannot, little one. My flock needs tending. In fact, I should've been there already. I'm sorry.”

Her mother stood and retrieved a small woolen bag from beside the stove in the corner of the rooftop. “Take this at least,” Iltani said, offering the satchel to Gadreel. “There are date cakes inside. I've heard you enjoy them.”

The angel took it with a nod. “Thank you.”

Before he left, Kammani hugged him with a fierceness Gadreel did not expect, and he wondered for a moment just who had come to comfort whom.

* * *

When he reached the inner courtyard again, Atrahasis sat on one of the benches, head held in his hands.

Gadreel frowned and made his way over to the _ensi_. “My lord? Are you all right?” he asked, gentle as he could.

Atrahasis looked up, and the weight on his shoulders was almost tangible. “Namdu's people have fled.”

“That is… ill news.” Gadreel sunk down onto the free space on the bench, dread pulling at the pit of his Grace.

The _ensi_ sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know why, but I thought they wouldn't stand with his treacherous deeds, that we could reason with them to stay.” He paused, a small, sad smile playing on his face. “That must sound ridiculous coming from the one who didn't want them here in the first place.”

“Both are the desires of a wise man, I think,” Gadreel said, and he tried to return the smile, to reassure the man. “Will we be able to finish the canals without them?”

“I cannot say. We relied on them overmuch.” Atrahasis sighed, shaking his head. “Perhaps if we had a definite timetable, we could better prepare, but as it stands I do not know.”

That brought a thought to Gadreel's mind, and he couldn't tell why he didn't think of it sooner. “We can ask Ki. His… Elohim cannot be so disagreeable as to deny that request.”

Atrahasis raised an eyebrow, his worry turning aside for something else, though he made no comment.

The expression crawled under his vessel's skin and picked at his Grace, eating at him until Gadreel had to ask, just to alleviate his curiosity, “What?”

“Nothing,” Atrahasis said, too quick. After a moment his face relaxed into a smile that the angel would call smug, if he were so bold. “You are quick to suggest speaking to Ki, that is all.”

“I—” Gadreel stopped himself, the _ensi's_ implication becoming clear. He couldn't refuse the accusation, not without lying, but he couldn't let it stand all the same. “It is the obvious course of action, is it not?”

“Of course. I'm merely making an observation.” He turned to face Gadreel fully, his expression growing serious. “I understand your affection for him, Dumuzi, but he is of the gods. Any kind of relationship beyond that of a companion that you may pursue with him cannot end well. You must know this.”

Laid out so plain, Gadreel could see further argument was futile. “I do. I know it well, my lord.” A sigh escaped his lips, and he found himself asking out loud, before he could stop himself, “Do you think he knows?”

The _ensi_ frowned, though it was sympathetic. “If I can see it, I can't imagine a messenger of the gods not being able to.” He set a hand on Gadreel's shoulder. “I would not fret, however. If Ki has not said anything it is out of a desire to protect you than a lack of reciprocation. I've seen the way he looks at you too.”

“That is not what troubled me,” Gadreel said, though now it did. He shook his head and dolled out the same excuse he'd given Kammani, and Atrahasis accepted it, though not without a look that ran too close to pity for Gadreel's comfort.

* * *

The flock was unattended when Gadreel returned, without a sign of Abner or Gabriel in sight. Out of habit he took stock of the sheep, checking them for injury or aberration, while he waited for the garrison to arrive, and he tried not to think about what could be keeping them.

Hester was the first to show but not in the manner Gadreel expected. She came crashing down, landing in a heap near his palm tree and cradling a broken wing.

“What happened?” Gadreel asked, at her side in an instant.

“Ambushed,” she gritted out, wincing as he touched her wing with healing Grace. “A woman belonging to the thieves guild. Caught me in Bad-tibira.”

Gadreel frowned. “No doubt the same one I encountered. She has unnatural strength.”

His sister nodded. “An angel blade of all things. It almost felt like—”

Inias landed then and took up Hester's other side. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine, Inias,” Hester said, putting a hand on their younger brother's arm to calm him.

Uncertainty flitted through him, glancing at her wing which was slow to heal, but he gave no further protest. “The others are right behind me.”

Gadreel raised an eyebrow, realization striking him at last. “Where were you?”

Three more sets of Graces arrived, and it was Ananiel who answered.

“Doing a sweep of Sumer. Gabriel said there was more to the thieves guild than previously thought, so I figured we should know the current locations of all of their known members.”

A smirk went up on Bartholomew's face, bothering Gadreel more than it should have, more than it normally would. “Knowing the true allegiance of Namdu's people helped with that.”

Their commander silenced him with a look. “How are Atrahasis and his family?”

They didn't know about Kammani's invovlement. Gabriel had lied for him. Given his earlier conversation with the _ensi_ , Gadreel wasn't sure how to feel about that. “Well, under the circumstances.”

Ananiel must have sensed his distress, though he hoped she could not read his thoughts with any kind of coherency, because she gave him a small, comforting smile. “Good. With all of this going on, we must remember the importance of keeping Atrahasis safe and protecting the mission.”

“That's about to get a lot harder to do.”

The collected garrison looked up, with the exception of Abner Gadreel noted with some concern, to see Gabriel walking towards them. He stopped when his gaze fell on Hester, now being healed by both Gadreel and Inias. “Though you might already know.”

“What is it?” Ananiel asked.

The archangel took a breath before continuing, and he wouldn't meet Gadreel's gaze. “The thieves guild. They're not normal humans.”

Abner crossed his arms. “They're psychics. We've known that.”

Under any other circumstances Gadreel might have called his tone and posture defensive, though he couldn't fathom the reason for such behavior from his partner. He should have just given up on trying to understand Abner by now, but it was difficult to let go, not when his friend was clearly unsettled by something and refused to speak of it.

“No, that's not what I mean.” Gabriel chewed on his lip, as though he was debating with himself. “They're not _fully_ human. Dad called them _nephilim_ , offspring of a human and an angel. Azazel in this case, I'm guessing.”

Bartholomew took a physical step back, his wings bristling out to their fullest extent. “But that's forbidden, not to mention disgusting.”

Gadreel looked at the other members of his garrison, and only Bartholomew and Inias seemed surprised. Somehow it didn't come as a shock to him either. The way both Namdu and the thief in Bad-tibira had identified him and their inhuman strength—it made sense. He turned back to Gabriel. “How did you discover this?”

Still the archangel would not look at him, and with Atrahasis' words ringing in his mind, Gadreel was almost grateful. “Took a bit of Namdu's blood before the guards disposed of him. The way he tossed us around just didn't seem natural. Raphael identified the Grace in it immediately, and Dad gave us the story.”

“Fools they were for thinking they could get away with it,” Ananiel said, shaking her head. “Did Father say anything else?”

“Instructions.” Gabriel looked at each of them in turn, until his eyes fell upon Gadreel at last, and the younger angel was taken aback by the sadness he found there, the burden laid upon Gabriel's shoulders that no one should have to bear. “The nephilim are to be destroyed. None shall be allowed to live.”

Hester's wing had healed enough to give her the strength to stand, her gaze resolute. “Gladly.”

Ananiel began constructing plans, Hester and Bartholomew at her side, while Gabriel took Gadreel by the arm and led him away from the others.

“Protect Atrahasis,” the archangel said, and his hand tightened on Gadreel's shoulder.

Gadreel covered Gabriel's hand with his own, unsure of how else to comfort him. Something had happened in Heaven, something with their Father no doubt, though he doubted Gabriel would confide in him what. That was a simple fact of the difference in their stations. “Of course. That is what I've always—”

He stopped himself, because for that statement to have been true, Namdu would never gotten near Shuruppak.

“This is an order from Father?” Gadreel asked instead. A fitting penance for his failure, and he would do it gladly.

Gabriel nodded, his eyes far away. “Direct. You and I, we're to make sure the boat is completed, and that Atrahasis remains safe. The garrison will take care of the nephilim.” For a moment he looked small, so small and lost it caused an ache in Gadreel's Grace. “We can't—”

“We won't.” Gadreel wrapped his wings around the archangel, and Gabriel leaned into the embrace, forehead almost touching his. “We won't,” and by all the powers in Heaven, he believed it.


	12. A New Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the nephilim war rages, Shuruppak gets an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey, would you look at that? I didn't take forever between posting chapters, hells yeah. Productivity for the win! Also, I'm just letting you guys know, stuff's gonna get painful from here on out. But then, we all kind of knew how this would end. It'll get better. Eventually. *shifty eyes*

Going after the thieves guild was a much bloodier affair this time around. The nephilim must have known that the angels were on to them, because they struck back with violence, often preempting any sneak attacks the garrison attempted.

Gadreel knew this only by hearsay, tales told while he healed up members of the garrison when they returned to Shuruppak. Inias gave him the bulk of the news, while Ananiel and Abner sat in differing silences; he was lucky if Hester and Bartholomew stopped to heal at all, and more than once their commander had to force them into convalescence.

When he wasn't dealing with his injured comrades, Gadreel was at Atrahasis' side as much as he could be without drawing suspicion. He pitched in with the completion of the boat, and Gabriel was there with him, though he couldn't lend a hand directly.

The archangel had been different since the discovery of the nephilim, quieter, more reserved. While Gabriel would laugh when Atrahasis joked about him being a hard taskmaster, the smile wouldn't quite reach his eyes. Part of Gadreel wanted to speak to him about, to coax out the reason for his shift in behavior, but he couldn't bring himself to voice those concerns. There was too much between them, and too much at stake, to carry on as they had before. Still, Gadreel felt he should at least make sure Gabriel was all right, because even as the ark approached completion his mood did not improve.

They were laying on the last coat of bitumen, which would keep the reeds from being saturated with water and thus sink, when Gadreel worked up the nerve to say more than just exchanging pleasantries to the archangel. After the day's work, Gabriel had taken to assuming a post on the roof of the palace, over the _ensi's_ quarters, where he brooked no distractions, so Gadreel caught him just before he left.

“You have not been well as of late,” he asked, the words spilling out faster and louder than he intended in his haste to stop Gabriel.

His answer was a snappy, too-quick, “I'm fine.”

Gadreel sighed. He didn't know why he thought he'd get any other kind of reply. It was like talking to Abner, though his partner was far more closed off, whereas Gadreel could see even with mortal eyes Gabriel's discomfort. “But you aren't, I can tell. Even Atrahasis sees it.”

“My state of being isn't of concern, Gadreel,” Gabriel said, voice hard. “The only thing that matters, in the end, is the mission. We can't be distracted by anything else.”

 _Not again_. Gabriel didn't say the words, not with his voice, but Gadreel felt them in his Grace. He knew it too, needed no reminder of how everything balanced on the edge of a knife. There was that irrational part of him, quiet in its stubbornness but no less forceful, that made it difficult for him to just let this go.

“I know that, but you are not yourself,” Gadreel said at last. Gabriel's expression remained unchanged, unmoved, and the younger angel sighed. “If you do ever want to talk, I am here. That has not and will not change, my friend.”

The archangel broke his gaze, finding something interesting on the ground and huffing out a small breath. His body relaxed, just enough that Gadreel could tell at least the intent of his words had gotten through to Gabriel, and he said, mumbling, “I'll keep that in mind.”

As Gabriel prepared himself for flight, something in the air shifted, a new energy brushing against their wings. It was Grace for certain but different—charred somehow, smelling of earth and fire and sulfur. The energy was everywhere around them, until it coalesced into a shape. Gabriel gasped, while Gadreel half-bowed, more to shield himself from the brightness of the concentrated Grace than out of respect, though he wouldn't admit that to either archangel now in front of him.

“Lucifer?” Gabriel asked, awed and breathless.

The elder archangel smiled and inclined his head, though he said nothing.

An instant later, Gabriel lunged at his brother, arms and wings wrapping around him. Lucifer swayed on his feet, smiling at last, and returned the embrace.

“It's good to see you too, little brother,” Lucifer said. Despite his words his voice was cold, so much so that Gadreel shivered in the core of his Grace. How it escaped Gabriel's notice he couldn't tell, unless it didn't, of course.

Gabriel took a small step back, still holding on to Lucifer with a wide grin on his face. The expression faltered a moment later, and he gripped the elder archangel tighter. “Don't _do_ that. Don't just disappear on us. Send a message or something, fuck. I'm sure even Father was worried.”

“That I doubt.” Lucifer shook his head, reaching up and taking one of Gabriel's hands. “Though I'm sorry I put the rest of you through that. My quarrel is with Michael, not you.”

The Messenger frowned, biting at his lip and not meeting Lucifer's eyes. “About that. Hasn't it been enough time? Can't you just…”

Gadreel felt out of place, like he should not have been hearing this conversation. These were private archangel matters, far above his rank despite what closeness he had with Gabriel, assuming that still existed.

Lucifer smiled, unhappy but what it might mean beyond that Gadreel couldn't say. “Perhaps. But not yet, little brother.”

“Look, I know you and Michael aren't going to see eye to eye on anything for a long time, but you'll make up. You always too,” Gabriel said, desperation slipping into his tone. “Please, Lucifer. Come home.”

“Gabriel—” The elder archangel stopped himself and sighed. “Not yet.”

It was strange how similar yet very different Lucifer was from Gabriel. Neither paraded their emotions out, a requirement of being an archangel in a way, but still Gabriel bore the weight of his burdens on his shoulders and in his eyes, where they might be seen but only guessed at, like Michael but less distant. Lucifer's were locked away, tucked into a corner of his Grace where Gadreel doubted even their Father could see, a trick not even Raphael had mastered, though it was clear that he tried.

“You presume much, Watcher.”

It took Gadreel a moment to realize the statement was directed at him. He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “I don't— I wasn't—”

“I apologize. We archangels are less mysterious than we would like, as difficult as that is to face.” Lucifer's expression softened, though not the same way it had when he looked at Gabriel. “Gadreel, isn't it?”

“Uh, yes.” Gadreel forced himself not to raise an eyebrow, because they both knew that statement was a lie. If the elder archangel's presence was bringing any kind of comfort to Gabriel, it only served to confuse Gadreel. “Though you are correct. It is not my place to… question. My apologies.”

Something shifted on Lucifer's expression, and his tone turned pleased but still cold. “Questioning is not always a bad thing.”

Gadreel tried to keep from fidgeting under the archangel's steady gaze. “Of course not, but—”

Gabriel cleared his throat and angled himself so that his wings served as a barrier between Gadreel and Lucifer. “So, Luce, what are you doing here anyway? Not that I'm ungrateful. It's just unexpected.”

“I heard you were in Sumer, and I wanted to see my little brother,” Lucifer said, smile returning. “If you're here, something big must be going on. What manner of trouble has humanity gotten into this time?”

“That you have to take up with Dad.” Gabriel gave his brother a look, leaving no doubt as to what he meant by that response. “Speaking of the mission, I have to get back to it. Sorry, bro.”

Lucifer nodded. “Of course. I should be going myself, in fact.” He paused, brow raised in mind curiosity, and leaned to the right, looking past Gadreel. “Eavesdropping is unbecoming, even for little ones such as yourself.”

 _No,_ Gadreel thought. As he turned around, he prayed with every fiber of his Grace that it wouldn't be—

“Kammani?” Gabriel asked. He crossed his arms, instantly the playful and carefree Ki she knew. “What are you doing out here alone?”

The little girl shrugged, and she didn't raise her head to meet Gabriel's gaze, nor would she look at Gadreel. “I wanted to see you two. I never see you any more.”

“Ki and I have been busy helping your _ada_ , you know that.” Gadreel crouched so he could look her in the eye. She wasn't lying; a quick scan of her revealed her sadness and disappointment with them, but there was fear too. That Gadreel did not expect. He had to assauge her, even if perhaps he should have been distancing himself. “But things will go back to normal soon, I promise.”

“If you promise.” Kammani nodded, and though she was unconvinced, Gadreel felt her resign herself to the current state of affairs. She glanced at Lucifer. “Who is he? I've never seen him in Shuruppak before.”

“He's an old friend of Ki's from Eridu.” Kammani's fear spiked as she spoke about Lucifer, but none of it showed on her face, bravery she seemed to have inherited from both her parents. “There's no need to worry.”

That she doubted too, but Gadreel could offer no further comfort on the subject, not without lying, for he was as clueless about Lucifer's true motives as she was.

“Since you know who I am, I suppose it's only fair you return the favor,” Lucifer said. In an instant his face was gentler, and his smile seemed genuine.

Not that the _ensi's_ daughter bought it for a moment. She was far too much like both of her parents for that. Wariness in her voice, she replied, “I'm Kammani.”

The elder archangel tilted his head to the side. “Just Kammani?”

She looked confused. “Yes. Is that not enough?”

“Well, we can always be more.” Lucifer shrugged and took a step back. “But if you insist, I will accept that you are just plain old Kammani.”

Gabriel shot his brother a look before turning back to Kammani. “You should head home. I'm sure your parents are starting to worry. Your _ama_ probably has a search party at the ready.”

Kammani gave him a small smile. “Probably.” The expression faltered when she looked at Gadreel. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

How he wished he had an easy answer for her. All he could provide was a cop-out, “I will try,” and from her lukewarm reception, Kammani knew it precisely for what it was. She did hug him before she left, perhaps in part as a reminder to hold to his promise, though Gadreel was glad for it either way.

After she was out of earshot, Lucifer clicked his tongue. “Some might say you are too close to the humans here, Gadreel.”

“Most would say that, I think. I admit it freely,” Gadreel said. There was no use in denying it. If his caring saved these people, he would take whatever punishment Heaven might dish out, though he doubted Father would be so cruel. “I am a Watcher. Distancing myself from them would be just as unwise.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him, looking as stern as Michael ever could.

“Knock it off, Luce,” Gabriel said, knocking a wing against Lucifer's. “Gadreel does his job, and that's what matters.”

His face slipped back into the quiet smug mask, and Gadreel wasn't sure which was more unsettling. Lucifer shook his head, chuckling around his words. “Sully yourself all you like. It makes no difference to me.” He glanced up, and the elder archangel frowned. “Well, I'll leave you two to your duties. Wouldn't want to bring the wrath of Michael down on our heads.”

“Lucifer, wait—”

But he was gone before Gabriel could stop him. Moments later, Ananiel landed beside them, bleeding and patches of feathers missing from her wings. She had been lucky, then.

Gadreel helped her sit and began looking over her injuries. “You were successful?”

“Only one of the ringleaders remains,” Ananiel said with a nod. “It won't be long now.”

Gabriel shifted on his feet, anxiousness emanating from him. “Do you need any extra help?”

The garrison commander waved him off. “I'll be fine. Thank you.”

“Then I'll resume watch on Atrahasis,” Gabriel said. He prepared himself for flight, and Gadreel felt panic bloom in his chest.

“Gabriel, wait.” He didn't know why he said it. The words came flying out of his mouth before he could shove them back down. Gabriel sighed but heeded him all the same, leaving Gadreel to fumble for some kind of coherent statement. “Just… remember what I said.”

The archangel hesitated before nodding and taking flight. Somehow that didn't make Gadreel feel any better.


	13. Stop the World 'Cause I Wanna Get Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel tries to fix his family problems, while Abner uncovers information that may hinder that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, only four chapters left, holy crap. Every time I finish one, I'm still amazed this fic has gotten this far. Also, there's so many things in this chapter that I should probably apologize for, but then again, if you're here you already know this won't end happily. Just don't throw things at me, please. Your monitor or phone screen is far too valuable for that sort of abuse.

The next day, Atrahasis completed the ark. He and Gadreel checked over every corner of it to ensure its soundness, while Gabriel stood by, though he seemed distracted and prepared to run at any moment. The _ensi_ tried to inquire as to what might have been bothering him, but Gabriel assured that he was fine and to proceed with making sure the ark was truly ready.

By the end of the day, they had determined the ark was prepared for the Flood. When Gabriel went off to his post above the palace, Gadreel followed. The rest of the garrison was still out, so he could spare the time, and he was too worried for the archangel's well-being to let him go off alone.

Gabriel was waiting for him when he arrived on the rooftop. “Have you always been this persistent?” he asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, though his tone was more amused than irritated.

“According to Abner, yes,” Gadreel said with a shrug. He would take being called out if it meant an actual conversation with Gabriel. “He prefers 'stubborn', however.”

The archangel smirked. “I was being polite.” He relaxed and stepped in closer. “I'll save you some trouble. I'm not okay and won't be until my brothers are happily back together in Heaven and all this Flood business is dealt with.”

Gadreel nodded, trying to gauge if Gabriel was pushing him away. His body language was open, and he sounded more like himself than he had in weeks, but that could all go away if Gadreel pushed too far. After a moment, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help? Or, if you prefer, I can just—”

“No, it's okay. Actually.” Gabriel chewed his lip, looking thoughtful. “I need your opinion on something.”

The statement should have been odd, spoken by an archangel to an angel of lower status (not even a seraph, at that), but Gadreel couldn't help but be happy that Gabriel seemed to be trusting him again. A second later he realized what the matter might be. “Is this about Lucifer?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel looked around, anxious again. “Did he seem all right to you? I mean, like himself? You're in Michael's choir; I know you had to have met him at least.”

“That I have,” Gadreel said, and he thought on it. He had been close to Lucifer on perhaps one other occasion, plus a handful more times seeing him in passing. Otherwise he knew the second-eldest archangel about as well as any other angel. “He seemed as he was then, though… colder.”

“Well you can't blame him for that. Still.” The archangel paced a bit, tapping his chin. “If he came out of hiding, that's progress, right? That could mean he's willing to listen, or talk, or even just be in the same room as—”

“Gabriel.” Gadreel stepped in front of him and put his hands on Gabriel's shoulders in an attempt to calm him. Where he found the courage for that, he couldn't be sure. “You're rambling.”

He laughed, though it was shaky and lacking mirth. “You're right. Sorry.” Gabriel shook his head. “Do you think it's possible, though? That Lucifer could come back?”

Gadreel didn't have a good answer for that, at least not one that would mollify Gabriel. “You would know better than I. He's your brother. Though he himself said it would be some time before he returned. Giving him space would seem to be the best option.”

Sure enough, the archangel sighed at that, though he seemed more disappointed than angry. “Point. Trying to force Luce to do anything never—” Gabriel paused, mouth half-open, and his eyes widened before schooling his expression. “Unless it wasn't him being forced. Not exactly.”

The younger angel had been around Gabriel long enough to know that look and that tone, and it could lead nowhere good. “Haven't we dealt enough with loopholes?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Loopholes are kind of what I do, Gad. Don't worry, this'll work.”

Despite the confidence in Gabriel's tone, Gadreel didn't relinquish his hold. “What are you planning to do?”

“I'm going to talk to Michael and try to convince him to talk to Lucifer. I know he'll at least consider it,” Gabriel said, and he gave Gadreel a little smile before slipping out of his grasp.

There was no convincing him; that much was clear. Gadreel tried to push down his worry and said, “If you're sure.”

The archangel squeezed his hand and nodded, spreading out his wings for flight. “Just keep an eye on Atrahasis until I get back.”

Unease settled back into Gadreel's Grace as Gabriel flew off. All four archangels were capable of being stubborn and bull-headed when they wanted to be, and Gadreel wasn't sure anything less than Lucifer himself arriving in Heaven would bring Michael round, as distant and cold as he'd been since the younger archangel's apparent desertion of Heaven. Gadreel could only hope Gabriel was right this time.

* * *

Night fell over Sumer just as it always did, stars winking in the twilight, people going about their evening business, but change was in the air. Gadreel could feel it. With the ark finished, the Flood would arrive soon, and all of this would be swept away.

Atrahasis had confirmed that the canals were not far enough along and would not be able to drain away the flood waters, not in the quantities they needed. If the northern cities had more success, Shuruppak might survive, but it would be devastated all the same. If Namdu had kept up his ruse a little longer, the village might've stood a better chance, but even with that Gadreel could not be sure. This is what he told himself, and he did not think too much about the alternative, because down that road was guilt and shame, and Gadreel had enough of both without adding the blame of Namdu's betrayal to the pile.

_Gadreel?_

The question came over the garrison channel, but what surprised him was the one asking it. Since his shift in behavior, rare was the occasion that he said anything on angel radio besides a few requisite reports here and there, never mind directing anything at him. So Gadreel gave a hesitant, _Abner?_ in reply.

His partner's relief was palpable in his answer. _Where are you?_

Gadreel gave him his location, though he wondered for a moment if it was the right thing to do. Abner sounded different, enough that it set Gadreel on edge, but the difference also felt… familiar.

When Abner landed beside him on the roof, Gadreel almost didn't recognize him. His tunic and kilt were torn and stained with several dark red patches, and his vessel bore many wounds, some scarred over, some fresh, but all were new to him. Still he appeared more like himself—brighter, whole—than he had in months.

“Are you all right?” Gadreel found himself asking, before Abner had a chance to speak.

“I am now,” Abner said. He looked around and frowned. “Where is everyone? And why are you up here instead of out in the fields?”

If the oddities in his appearance weren't enough, Abner's questions stopped Gadreel in his tracks. “What— They're out fighting the nephilim, like I thought you were.”

Abner shook his head. “Nephilim? I should've known. That makes more sense than a simple group of psychics and thieves. But no, I haven't been fighting them. Not exactly.”

Alarms went off in Gadreel's head. “You were there when Hester was attacked and when Gabriel gave the order to hunt them down. How could you not know? And if you haven't been fighting them, where have you been?”

“Being held captive by them in Larsa. Wait, you say I've been here the whole time, then?” Abner's brow furrowed, honest confusion radiating from him. “But how? That's impossible.”

“I don't—” But he did. Gadreel searched his memory for Gabriel's method of watching over Atrahasis and delivering the message to the rest of Sumer about the Flood. He mentioned his brother taught him, and a trick like that could not have come from an angel of lower station, which left few possibilities as to the party responsible and even worse implications. All he could manage aloud was, “Something greater is afoot here. We have to tell Ananiel.”

His partner sighed, closing his eyes. “This is all my fault. I should've fought harder to get away from them, to warn the garrison.”

Gadreel stepped closer to Abner, trying to get his friend to look at him. “Don't. These creatures are strong, and they know our weaknesses. The fault lies with Azazel and his corruption. Do not blame yourself, my friend.”

After a moment, Abner looked up and gave a faint smile, the twist of it different than Gadreel expected. “It sounds like I'm not the only one bearing a sin.”

He could have laughed, would have if he didn't think it would have made him look insane. “You always could see through me. I'll catch you up in time.” Gadreel found himself smiling too, though he felt no joy even at this apparent reunion. Every time it looked like things might just go right, something else interjected and brought their world a little closer to the edge of the knife. Was this Father's doing? If it was, He was starting to border on cruelty.

Shaking it off, Gadreel took in Abner's appearance again. “What did they do to you?”

Abner looked down at his injuries, lips twisting as the pain of memory flashed through his Grace. “The leader of their unit in Larsa tortured me. He tried to extract information at first, but I wouldn't accede to his demands. Eventually he stopped asking questions and just cut into me for the fun of it.”

“Ananiel did clear out Larsa yesterday,” Gadreel said. He would've been angry at their commander for not checking if the nephilim held any prisoners, but their situation was dire, and time did not allow them such thoroughness at the moment.

“That explains my escape. Their deaths weakened the wards used to hold me, I suppose.” Abner sighed and covered Gadreel's hand with his own. “Well at least their numbers are thinning.”

“Yeah, they're dropping like very irritating flies,” came Gabriel's voice, rough and ragged.

They turned to see the archangel land on the roof. His Grace was in as much a disarray as his appearance, though Gadreel doubted his ripped clothing and superficial wounds had anything to do with that.

“I just caught the last leader on my way back. She was trying to get into the city. Dad knows what she might have had planned,” Gabriel continued. He looked at Abner as if just seeing him and tilted his head, one eyebrow starting to quirk. A blade appeared in his hand, smaller than his own weapon. “I believe this is yours.”

Watching Gabriel hand Abner the blade was like the sliding of a puzzle piece into place, connecting all the other disparate events into one greater picture that finally made _sense_. The nephilim Gadreel fought in Bad-tibira, the weapon she'd carried and how familiar the Grace had felt—why hadn't he seen it all sooner?

Abner was quiet for a long moment, staring at the blade with hard eyes before returning his gaze to Gadreel. There was something new there, a fire that Gadreel had never witnessed in his partner, and it was unsettling coming from him, worrisome even. “I'm going to see Ananiel.”

“Be safe, brother,” Gadreel said, and he tried to convey as much reassurance as he could.

With a nod and a faltering smile, Abner took flight.

“He seemed… different,” Gabriel said, turning to Gadreel. In the instant Abner had been gone, the archangel seemed smaller, shoulders slumped and wings half-curled into himself. “Something happen?”

There was no easy way for Gadreel to answer that. “We think someone has been impersonating Abner for quite some time. Another angel, I would guess, though the only one I know with that kind of power besides you is—”

“Lucifer.” Gabriel closed his eyes and leaning into Gadreel. Whether it was a conscious action on his part, the younger angel couldn't say, though he didn't argue the offering of closeness. “I guess Michael was right.”

The defeat in his tone made Gadreel frown. “Your attempt to convince him did not go well, I take it?”

Gabriel shook his head. “It didn't even _go_. He just refuses to listen to anything I say and trotted out the same old 'I'm right, and everyone else is wrong or insane' line. And now Luce is up to Dad knows what, which means he was actually fucking right.”

“I'm sorry, Gabriel.” Gadreel said, though the words felt useless, so he opened his wings a little wider. The archangel all but melted into the space provided, forehead dropping to rest on Gadreel's shoulder as their arms and wings intertwined.

His reply was muffled, thin, and weary, so unlike Gabriel it made Gadreel's Grace ache. “Can it all just stop? Lucifer, the nephilim, the Flood. It's all just too…” Gabriel made a noise in his throat, wordless but dripping in frustration. And that Gadreel understood. “Why we can't stay here like this for a couple hundred years? The rest of this stuff can sort itself out.”

There were so many things he wanted to say to that, so many words he shouldn't have said but had held back for too long, but whatever answer Gadreel might have had for that died in his throat, as a wordless scream erupted across angel radio.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked, raising his head and frowning.

“You didn't—” It took Gadreel a split-second of processing to realize that, no, Gabriel hadn't heard, couldn't have. If the lack of reaction from even the garrison was any indication, the scream was a prayer, in its way, and it was directed at him.

Gadreel winced as the prayer rang out again, louder this time. He didn't recognize the voice, though the agony was unmistakable. The archangel's face grew more concerned, and he tried to explain. “Someone needs our help. We have to find them.”

“Who? And where are they?”

“I don't—”

_Dumuzi!_ This prayer Gadreel recognized, knew the voice all too well, and to his horror it matched the previous two.

“No,” he found himself whispering, closing his eyes.

Gabriel tipped his face up, and his voice turned soft. “Hey, look at me. What's going on?”

The words were difficult to get out, sticking to his throat despite the urgency of the situation. “It’s Kammani.”


	14. The Serpent in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kammani is not the only one in need of saving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? It's been a year and five months since I updated, you say? And that's a completely reasonable amount of time to have waited? Aw, thanks, you're the best! >_>

“It's Kammani.”

When Gadreel opened his eyes, Gabriel's expression had shifted. Gone was the little brother caught between stubborn siblings; the archangel, the Messenger of God, was all that could be found, wings flared and a hand upon his blade. There was a time the switch would have bothered Gadreel. Now both came as a comfort, because both belonged to Gabriel.

“Where is she?”

The question was easier to answer than he would have liked. Gadreel grasped at the tendrils of Kammani's soul that had called to him, and they led him to a far corner of the city, one that should have been warded against all mortal entry, save for one human.

“She's at the ark,” Gadreel said, more distress in his tone than he liked.

Gabriel didn't stop to ask how or why. All that mattered was making sure Kammani was safe. The other details were irrelevant. He gave a short nod before flying off, and Gadreel scrambled to follow.

Landing at the ark, Gadreel was overwhelmed by the feeling of Grace _everywhere_ , so bright and heavy he had to raise his wings to shield himself from it. The wards Gabriel had erected were torn, but the damage seemed incidental, a result of the Grace that was flooding even into the shadows.

“You all right, Gad?” he heard Gabriel ask.

Gadreel lowered one wing to look at the archangel, who stood tall, though his gaze seemed to be avoiding the ark. “I think so. What is this?”

“Can't say,” Gabriel said, voice shaking from an unsettling mix of anger and unsurety. “It feels like a beacon, there's so much Grace. Like they want to be found.”

A trap. The familiarity of the situation was not lost on Gadreel, and, with those words, it couldn't have been to Gabriel either.

The cruel parallel continued when Kammani emerged from the far side of the ark. Her skin was marred with burns, dark skin raised and pink in patches that emanated the same Grace that surrounded them. Worse, her eyes had gone white, blind, but that didn't seem to impair her ability to see them.

She smiled as she approached, happy despite the battered state of her body. “Dumuzi, you came.”

Gadreel couldn't find it in him to speak, unable to push past the lump in his throat and the swirl of concern, hurt, and sheer _rage_ in his being, so Gabriel did it for him, kneeling down and taking Kammani's hand. “What happened to you? Who did this?”

Kammani turned to him, and her eyes widened. She reached out her free hand to touch Gabriel's wings, fingertips soft and reverent on the feathers. “Why would you hide these, Ki? They're so pretty.”

At the touch, Gabriel winced. He glanced over at him, and Gadreel found his own emotions mirrored there. Whoever did this was going to pay dearly.

The _ensi's_ daughter moved from Gabriel to Gadreel, and as she slipped into the curve of his open wing, it took so much of his strength not to whisk her off as far away from the ark as they could get. “Your wings are pretty too, Dumuzi. He said yours would be humbler, but I don't think that's true.”

He felt more than saw Gabriel stand up on alert once more. Gadreel found his voice with something logical on which to focus. “Who is ‘he’, little one?”

She smiled up at him. “Ki's friend from Eridu.”

Angelic gazes met, panic running deep in their beings. For Gadreel, that terror was undermined by guilt, the feeling twisting around in his Grace like a wily serpent. This was his fault, every last bit of it.

“You're not wrong.”

The voice seemed to come from the very air itself, resonating through the Grace there. It coalesced into solid form, but this time Gadreel didn't flinch. He shielded Kammani instead.

Lucifer stood before them, a little serene smile on his vessel's face. “But, in your defense, _Gad_ , Kammani's choices were all her own.”

“I wanted to see your true selves,” Kammani said, leaning into Gadreel's wing. “Now, you don't have to hide from me. It's unfair that you ever had to.”

Anger slithered back into Gadreel's throat, but he swallowed it down, trying to maintain his calm for more reasons than one. He ran his fingers through Kammani's hair, and she turned that trusting smile back to him. “Little one,” was all he could manage.

Gabriel was not so controlled. He pulled out his blade and leveled it at his older brother. “What is wrong with you? We're supposed to protect humans, not—”

“Treat them like little pets, only to discard them when Father calls us back?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Come now, Gabriel, you know better than that.”

“That doesn't excuse what you've done,” Gabriel said, and Gadreel felt him try to shove away his own guilt.

Kammani reached out to the younger archangel, taking his hand in hers. Gabriel looked down at their intertwined fingers and then at her, his eyes shining. “I'm unhurt, Ki, I promise. Please don't be angry.”

The claim made Gadreel do a double-take. It wasn't possible, was it? She was covered in burns and physically blind; how could she claim she had not been harmed? While in her heart she believed it, Gadreel found it difficult to swallow, until he looked deeper.

The girl's soul was different, twisted and marred in a way Gadreel had never before seen. Whatever it was, the one thing it wasn't was human, not any more. What had Lucifer done? What had _he_ done?

“Dumuzi?” Kammani asked, turning back to Gadreel. She tilted her head, frowning a little. “What's wrong?”

A high-pitched screech interrupted whatever answer Gadreel might have had. He saw Gabriel and Lucifer wince as well, and the Grace in the air wavered and recoiled.

“The Host,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

Lucifer remained calm despite the implications of his statement. “Michael.”

Gadreel could feel the Host bearing down on them, more furious than he'd ever before borne witness to. If Michael was on his way there, all of them were going to be in trouble. The state of Kammani's soul alone was enough to damn them, regardless of their individual involvement. In that moment, Gadreel made a decision.

“Gabriel, go.”

The younger archangel turned to him, brow raised. “What?”

“Get out of here,” Gadreel said, the words forcing themselves out of his throat.

Recognition and something else—something Gadreel didn't dare name, not now—flickered in Gabriel's Grace. “And leave you and Kammani to get caught in the middle of _my_ brothers' squabble? I don't think so.”

They had mere moments at their disposal, and Gabriel wanted to argue? Part of Gadreel warmed at the thought, but there was no time. “Someone has to.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but shut it just as quickly. He shook his head and tried again. “I'll tell Michael the truth, him and Father. They'll understand—”

“Don't. Heaven will be out for blood, and you know it,” Gadreel said, hating how his vessel's voice cracked. “The angels need you more than I do.”

The shriek of the Host came again, and Kammani cowered from it, curling into Gadreel's side. With one wing, he covered her, and with the other, he pushed away Gabriel. “Go.”

He hesitated, just for a split-second, before turning and flying off, leaving no trace of his Grace behind.

Gadreel faced Lucifer, doing his best to keep himself between the archangel and Kammani. Perhaps it was the stress of the situation playing tricks on his senses, but Gadreel swore he saw a flash of gratitude in Lucifer's being. The notion was of little comfort.

Gabriel's escape was well-timed, as the Host arrived just after, Michael's fury palpable. Raphael stood behind him, while the rest of the angels that had accompanied them hovered above.

Michael said nothing at first. He took in Kammani and her broken soul, Gadreel standing as steadfast as he could beside her, before turning to Lucifer and quietly asking, “What have you done?”

“Only what I had to,” Lucifer said, his voice placid if not casual.

“You mean to say you _had_ to twist and corrupt an innocent soul?” Michael was as stone; however terrifying Lucifer could be, the eldest archangel was infinitely worse.

Lucifer bristled, and something in his Grace went frigid, any remaining traces of warmth or brotherhood iced over. “If it proved you and Father wrong, then yes. Your adoration for these creatures is as flawed and misguided as they are.”

“That is not for us to decide.”

The younger archangel unfurled all six of his wings to their fullest, every feather tense. There was no question as to how this would end. “And you do everything Father tells you to?”

Michael returned the display, his blade appearing in his hand. “I am a good son.”

In a flash, Lucifer launched himself at Michael, and the two went flying, a blur of wings and blades and furious-bright Grace.

Raphael stepped into the space where Michael had been, his gaze trained on Gadreel. “Hand over the abomination.”

“Dumuzi?” Kammani looked at Raphael and then back up at Gadreel. “Dumuzi, what's going on? Where is Ki?”

Gadreel shushed her, easing a hand through her hair. “It's all right, little one,” he whispered, though he knew she was smart enough to see through the lie. What else could he do?

“Watcher. I will not be kind if you refuse to comply,” Raphael said. His wings flared out, and his Grace seemed to brighten, though it was still dim compared to the traces of Lucifer's and Michael's that remained.

The notions of Raphael and kindness were two that Gadreel had never before heard mentioned in tandem. Still, he had to tread lightly. “Promise me she will not be harmed.”

The archangel tilted his head, and damned if there wasn't a spark of amusement in his Grace. “It will be dealt with accordingly. Now, hand _it_ over.”

Fighting Raphael would do him no favors, but Gadreel couldn't help the flare of anger in his being at the archangel's words. “I will accept whatever judgment our Father metes, but, until then, no harm is to come to her.”

Raphael all but growled, drawing his blade, but one of his lieutenants put a wing out to stop him. The angel was familiar, and it took Gadreel a moment to place him.

“Stand aside, Samandriel.”

“I will not sit by and watch you provoke unnecessary bloodshed,” the younger angel said. “Gadreel has offered to come quietly, and we should take him up on it.”

For a long moment, Raphael said nothing. He glared at Samandriel before snapping his fingers. “Bind the creature and the Watcher.” He turned his gaze on Gadreel, still speaking to his subordinates. “Stay on your guard. Though he claims pacificity, he is still of Azazel's ilk. Others like him will never go quietly.”

Others? Gadreel wanted to ask, but that would bring up too many complications, too many questions that could lead them straight back to Gabriel. Instead, he allowed Raphael's angels to take him, shielding Kammani as long as he could. Her screams filled his ears, and he did nothing to block out the sounds.

This was his penance for failing these humans, for failing his brothers. Kammani's cries would never leave his memory, and he never wanted to forget.


	15. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pieces settle, the gambits made plain, and the King passes judgment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeey, internet. So, I miiiight have finished this awhile ago and just completely forgot to edit/post it until now. My deepest apologies to anyone that might have been waiting on this to update, though, at least, it'll be complete posthaste? *hides*

The angels were silent.

When Michael had dragged Lucifer back to Heaven, all the choirs—seraph and cherub alike—began shouting across the channels. Their voices rose in a cacophony of worries, arguments, calls to action, and calls for peace. No one seemed to be listening to anyone, all of their words undercut by sheer panic. Gadreel tried to shut them out, but it was all so _loud_.

And then one Voice, one Word, rang out above the noise and the prattle, and it all came to a halt.

The silence stretched as their Father passed judgment on Lucifer. He sought not to understand why His favorite, His brightest attempted—succeeded, in his way—to undo humanity, and Lucifer made no attempt to justify his actions.

“You have corrupted that which you were charged to protect, not only an innocent human soul but your own brethren, the ones you have helped raise from fledglings.”

Lucifer's response resonated just as loud, the Host hanging on every word.

“How can you expect us to protect those spineless abominations when you favor them above your firstborn?”

Their Father's anger was a vicious, tangible thing. Gadreel, even sequestered away as he was, recoiled from it, tried to make himself as small as possible. The two members of Raphael's choir guarding him did the same, their wings curling around themselves like shields.

“You were supposed to guide them to the righteous path, though, in the end, they were designed to choose which road to follow.”

“And we are not allowed the same choice?”

What happened next should have been cataclysmic, a judgement to shake Heaven to its astral foundations. Instead, it was a quiet, almost rueful—

“If you are so intent on sharing their fate, you will be as damned as they are, my son.”

The Morning Star said nothing.

“I know of the little realm you made, where you hid all your secrets. There you shall be confined for eternity, forced to listen to the screams of the fallen souls you insisted on leading astray.”

All at once, everything was too bright, too loud, angels crying out, some spurred by cold pity, others by heated anger. Drowning it all out was the anguish of the three remaining archangels, which seemed to grow larger as Lucifer's Grace was rent from Heaven, filling in the gaps left by his absence.

“What of the abomination, Father?” came Michael’s voice above the din, free of compassion or warmth.

_No, please. Leave her be,_ Gadreel found himself praying, though he knew none could hear him.

“There’s still light in her soul. There’s a chance we could save her.”

Gabriel. Of course he would try. He couldn’t save Gadreel, but Kammani wasn’t beyond hope. That was all Gadreel could ask for now.

The Host quieted again, a whisper instead of rapt silence. The fate of one human girl was but a scattering of sand compared to the brightest archangel.

“She will be the first occupant of Lucifer’s realm, the Hell he created. Seal her there, away from his cage and any others that might join them. Her importance is too great.”

The last prayer Gadreel ever heard was Kammani, crying out for him, her cry ripping through his Grace and leaving its mark as she, too, was cast out from Heaven and all earthly realms.

Whatever Lucifer’s machinations, whatever Azazel’s plans or the nephilim’s sabotage, Gadreel knew he was responsible for Kammani’s fate, knew, come what may, he would never forgive himself for it. No matter how much penance he paid, he would never deserve it.

Gadreel wanted to reach out to Gabriel, he still could if he tried, but doing so would've been a selfish indulgence now and would've only served to damn them both.

So, he waited.

The trouble with Heaven was there was no indication of the passage of time. Gadreel tried to keep track, tried to count the hours as he did while stationed on Earth, but Heaven had no cycles, no rhythms, just unflinching eternity. His guard never changed, and he started to wonder if Raphael was doing this on purpose.

The Host was also of no help. There was so much chatter across the channels. Any time he thought he'd latched onto a thread, other voices would drown it out, and he was swept along into another thread.

Of the fragments, oddly missing was any word of the Watchers. Their channel was silent, not even Ananiel's voice reaching out over the airwaves, and there was no trace of them among the other angels' conversations. What had happened? Even if they were caught up in business in Earth, something would have gotten through, but there was neither hide nor hair of them to be found.

He received his answer when Raphael finally appeared in front of his makeshift cell. The archangel held his head high, but his Grace seemed stretched thin, worn down at the edges and scrambling for light.

“Your time has come, Watcher.”

A million questions jumped to Gadreel’s tongue, but Raphael’s wings flared out just so, enough to tell him that silence was the better course of action.

When he stepped out of the cell, Gadreel allowed the guards to bind him. Raphael covered his eyes with a touch of magic, one more thing he dared not question.

The reason became obvious as they made their way through the divine pathways. Gadreel could hear the shouts of angels, no longer on the radio but not far from his ears, loud and accusing. No one tried to stop them, no one opposed. He wondered again at Raphael’s intentions in this charade, but he also realized that, one way or another, it would no doubt cease to matter.

When Gadreel’s vision returned, he was inside Heaven’s courtroom. This wasn’t his first visit, as it was mostly used to question angels about mishaps or unplanned catastrophes on Earth, and Watchers were not immune to such inquisitions, but it was his first time there on trial.

For that was certainly what this was—Michael standing at the head of the room, flanked on either side by Raphael and Gabriel, their three lieutenants at the ready on the right side of the room. There was no trace of their Father, the room void of His touch.

_Heaven will be out for blood_ , is what he had told Gabriel. He had never wanted more to be wrong.

Gadreel ducked his head, more to avoid Gabriel’s gaze than out of shame. The glance he could get of his—for a few fleeting, stolen moments, _his_ —archangel was not pleasant. Gabriel was still in his vessel, Grace torn and tattered at the edges, a quiet storm wrapped inside a frail human form.

“Gadreel.”

It took him a moment to realize it was not Michael that had spoken but Raphael. The eldest archangel’s face remained a mask, as much stone as pure light could manage, almost more of a reminder of Lucifer than how every angel seemed to be off-kilter, moving a step too far to the right or leaving a space to compensate for a being that was no longer there.

“You stand accused of abusing your position as a Watcher to help corrupt humanity, directly against our Father’s wishes. How do you plead?”

Gadreel looked up at Raphael, at Michael. There was only one answer he could give. “Guilty.”

It was then that Gadreel noticed the angels gathered behind him, too focused on Gabriel's pain to see theirs. A murmur went through the crowd, changing tone as it changed speakers. Gadreel did his best to block them out; his path was set.

Michael finally responded, finally seemed to see him. “Your partner Abner claimed he was not guilty of the same charge. I am surprised to hear you think differently.”

How was Abner caught in this? “We both speak true. Abner played no part in the corruption of Kam—the girl. He—”

“Let me guess, he was off being held captive by the nephilim?” There was a flash of amusement of Raphael’s Grace. “How convenient, considering none of them live to tell the tale, and no trace of his Grace was ever found in any of their hideouts. Not to mention that the rest of the garrison corroborates that he was present ever since Azazel’s capture, and that he had undergone a strange change in personality.

“In fact, all evidence points to Abner being Azazel’s accomplice. I’m not sure why you insist on the opposite.”

It was then that Gadreel realized that, perhaps, this had been Azazel’s plan, his endgame. What better way to sow dissent among the other angels than to make Lucifer’s hold seem far-reaching and impossible to escape?

“Abner had nothing to do with what happened.” Gadreel swallowed hard and caught Gabriel’s face in the corner of his vision. It only steeled his resolve. “I led the girl to Lucifer. I let the nephilim into Shuruppak. Everything that happened is my fault. Whatever you may think of Abner, his involvement is circumstantial.”

There was a crack in Michael’s façade, crumbling just enough that Gadreel could see the choirmaster underneath, the angel who had guided his garrison from their time as fledglings, the one who had taught Ananiel how to lead them well, who taught Gadreel and Abner, their wings so small and delicate they could barely fly, how to wield their blades.

“You betrayed the very people you were assigned to protect, took away the child of one our Father’s chosen, for what? Because Lucifer convinced you?” the eldest archangel asked, anger swelling under the stony veneer.

Gadreel couldn’t answer that directly without lying, but he had grown accustomed to loopholes. Finally meeting Gabriel’s eyes, he said, “Everything I did, I did in the service of my archangel.”

Raphael took a step towards Michael, but his older brother blocked him with a wing. They seemed to be arguing, but Gadreel couldn’t take in the nuances, couldn’t follow the exchange. His focus was on Gabriel, on the conflict in his eyes that was slowly bleeding out of his Grace, the worry, the regret. Gadreel exuded as much calm and resolve as he could. It was the only comfort he could give.

“Gabriel?”

The younger archangel started, breaking Gadreel’s gaze, and turned to Michael.

“What say you? Damn him like— like the demon?”

Shaking, Gabriel replied, “No.”

“I’m sorry?” Raphael asked, moving closer to Gabriel, wings flared.

“No, that would be.” He paused, and Gadreel felt more than saw Gabriel pack up his emotions, leaving his Grace cold and indifferent. “That would be a mercy.”

Raphael hesitated. He looked at Gabriel for a long moment, and the younger archangel stared right back, face more impassive than Gadreel had thought him capable. “You’re right. The traitor would probably want that.”

Michael looked at both of them, face unreadable again, before turning back to him. “It’s settled. Gadreel, for the crime of deceiving Heaven and corrupting humanity, you will be sentenced to an eternity imprisoned under Heaven’s unceasing watch.”

Gadreel nodded and bowed his head. Gabriel had been right. Any other punishment might have been a mercy, but this? Being allowed to stay Heaven but denied any of its light, its comfort? That was worse than any torture he would ever receive from Michael’s garrison of inquisitors that ran the prisons.

As a different set of guards started to drag him from the courtroom, Gadreel felt a thin bit of Grace wrap around him. A wisp, a fragment, but he knew immediately to whom it belonged. One thought rang out in his mind.

_I’m sorry._

He risked one last glance to Gabriel. The archangel was frowning but otherwise impassive, a stoic mask that Gadreel wished he didn’t have to wear. He sent back the bit of Grace as Gabriel vanished from his reach, one final attempt to save them both.

_You are forgiven._


	16. Epilogue: Gabriel

Heaven repaired, rebuilt, remembered.

The Deluge came to Sumer, as their Father said it would. Atrahasis could only save what was left of his broken family, the rest of Shuruppak, and much of Sumer on the whole, swept under the tides and laid to rest under the mud. Gabriel never did tell him exactly what happened to Kammani, only that she was taken by Elohim to serve a greater purpose. It wasn’t a lie. (He did, however, make sure Iltani made it back onto dry land with her husband, and that she carried a child within her. Gabriel always made sure that line continued and thrived, even after the angels were forbidden from interfering directly with human life. If his Father ever minded this particular disobedience, He never brought it to Gabriel’s attention.)

Angels were forbidden from visiting Earth freely. Accordingly, the Watchers were no longer assigned to Earth, guarding humanity from afar and allowing free will to run its course. Some rebelled, either from a desire to protect the humans or from some misplaced notion that they’d been demoted in importance. Ananiel’s garrison was given charge of hunting those rebels down, odd considering their proximity to Lucifer’s Fall, but Michael had argued there was none better suited to the job—none wanted more to prevent a repeat of Gadreel and Azazel.

Gabriel recommended two of his own choir to fill the void left in that garrison by Gadreel and Abner: Castiel and Balthazar, two misfits who, all the same, loved humanity as much as their predecessors. Raphael balked at the idea. Michael simply expressed his gratitude that Gabriel was participating for once.

Time passed. Earth changed. Humanity sinned. Some forgot Heaven. Their Father occasionally sent reminders in the form of Gabriel, but that didn’t stop them from generally doing what they wanted. They sinned and survived, and, perhaps, that was greatest miracle of all. Humanity was resilient, sometimes they even thrived. Gabriel watched their civilizations rise and fall for over two thousand years, still in wonder of them.

Even as their cities and achievements grew bigger, grander, Heaven faltered. Their Father had been speaking to the Host less and less, until eventually he stopped altogether. Not even Metatron heard from him any more. The light of the realm changed, like sunlight in winter. Still bright but empty and futile. It was no longer home. It was a prison.

One day, Michael called Gabriel and Raphael together. It was the first time they’d all shared the same space since Lucifer left, since the Deluge. Michael wasted no time telling them that Azazel had emerged from his human life as a demon, still in service to Lucifer, and was scheming to release him from the Cage Father had sealed him in. Raphael asked if Heaven was going to stop him. Michael said no.

Gabriel didn’t argue the point. He didn’t fight. He let Michael and Raphael lay out their plans, which lieutenants they would inform, who would be responsible for protecting the true vessel bloodlines. Neither asked him for input. They wanted to essentially bring about the end of the world, and Gabriel did nothing to stop them.

After they were done, Gabriel took flight, making a circuit around the borders of Heaven, taking in the endless celestial expanse. He landed at the center of the realm, just outside the Garden. Perhaps he could have gone inside, taken the time to reflect, maybe even sought out his Father. Instead, Gabriel walked past the entrance to a door guarded by two younger angels.

They looked surprised to see him but allowed him through.

Beyond the door were stairs, and as he descended, the air seemed to grow colder, and Gabriel used his wings to ward off the pervasive chill. The stairs bottomed out into a labyrinth of cells and interrogation rooms. Heaven’s prison. Gabriel had never liked the idea of its existence, but their Father had built it, so He must have intended them to use it.

“Gabriel?”

He looked up to see another younger angel, but this one he knew. “Naomi.”

Naomi, one of Michael’s, not that that seemed to matter any more, crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “It’s rare to receive a visit from you. May I ask the occasion?”

“No. Just don’t hinder me,” Gabriel said, and he’s surprised at how collected he sounds. “I’m not springing anyone free. I just. Need to see something.”

Her brow arched higher but she stood aside. “As you wish.”

More like, “You are being watched.” Though Gabriel knew what he was getting into when he decided to come here. It wouldn’t matter soon.

He went deeper into the maze, bristling as the wards thickened. Something about the place felt less and less like Heaven the further down he traveled. A feeling of _you shouldn’t be here_ beat into his Grace, but Gabriel pressed on.

At the so-called heart of the prison, he was stopped by an angel sitting at a desk, who was casually toying with a tool Gabriel recognized as an instrument used for torture. He didn’t even bother to stand when he noticed Gabriel.

“I’m sorry, but this floor is restricted. Only Michael or Father Himself can go past this point, and we all know how likely that is these days.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply, but from the corner of his eye he saw an open door. Wisps of Grace bled out into the hallway, and he would have known that energy anywhere. He started to move towards it, one unsure step after the other—

“You can’t—”

A wave of force knocked back the angel. Gabriel couldn’t even turn and apologize, he was so focused on that open door.

He owed Gadreel so much. A goodbye. A thank you. An apology. He’d tried to stay, to safeguard Heaven in the way they’d failed to before, but he just couldn’t any more. Heaven held no light or laughter any more. Perhaps if Gadreel had been at his side, if he’d just fought harder, he could. Maybe then Michael and Raphael wouldn’t be planning the downfall of humanity, the fight to end all fights. Maybe then Father would have stayed.

But there was nothing left to fight, and Gabriel couldn’t bear to watch his home, all of his brothers and sisters, crumble and crack under the strain. He was tired. He was done.

“I’m sorry.”

And with that, Gabriel ran. Heaven would be fine without him.


	17. Epilogue: Gadreel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the end of things. For anyone that might have been waiting, I am so sorry this took so long. Especially since I had the story actually finished for, like, a year? Again, my bad. But, hey, it's here, and that's what matters. Once upon a time, I had sequels planned, but. We'll see. This story taught me so much about myself, and I'm grateful for every one of you that came on the journey with me. Y'all are the best!

The voices came during a lull in Thaddeus' torture. Gadreel was on the table, chained down while Thaddeus circled him, twirling his blade in his hands like this was some kind of game. To him it was, Gadreel supposed. And then for the first time in three thousand years, Gadreel could hear the voices of angels screaming over the channels, loud enough that he could hear, cut off from the Host as he was. Thaddeus stopped and had to lean against the wall for support, and then Naomi's harsh, cold voice was in the hallway. Gadreel couldn't make out the words, but Thaddeus took heed and exited the room, leaving Gadreel alone.

Most of the time alone was good for Gadreel. Alone meant safety, as much shelter as he was going to get from Thaddeus' sadistic whims. After Abner was freed, he'd hated it, but the alternative wasn't any pleasanter. This time was different. The quiet let him hear the cries, make out a few words here and there.

_Gabriel._

_Gone._

Gadreel tried to shut them out, yearned for the silence. Gabriel wouldn't. Wouldn't leave them, wouldn't abandon Heaven. He loved his brothers and sisters and humanity and wouldn't ever fully entrust their care to Michael and Raphael. He had to be hearing it wrong; there was a piece Gadreel was missing, there had to be.

"Do you need me upstairs?" he heard Thaddeus asking over the din of the Host.

"No, continue your regular interrogations," Naomi said. There was a pause, a shift, and she spoke again. "Wait. Take this and use it well. There might be something to uncover here."

A few minutes later, Thaddeus reentered the room. Gadreel didn't look at him, but he could hear something different in his gait, a thrum of amusement in his torturer's Grace. "Have you heard the news, Gadreel? I'm sure it must have reached even you. The wailing was loud enough."

He did his damnedest to remain neutral, to not let through his curiosity or his frail hope. Gadreel couldn't give him the satisfaction, and he knew he couldn't trust anything Thaddeus might say anyway.

"They say Gabriel, everyone's favorite archangel, is gone. Just up and left Heaven." Thaddeus sat down on a stool next to the table, his favored place to seat himself and make the torture personal, as he was doing now. "Can't say I'm surprised. Everyone always said he was too like Lucifer for his own good."

Gadreel couldn't help how he tensed and strained against his chains at that. He bit down on angry words that threatened to escape, but he didn't know how long he could hold them in, even if it brought him more pain. Attacks on his person he could withstand, both physical and otherwise; he'd grown accustomed to them, expected them, knew he deserved them. Gabriel was another matter.

From the edges of his vision, Gadreel could see Thaddeus toying with his blade again. The silver glinted cold in the dim light, and he tried to think of anything but that. A bright smile under a palm tree at sunset, golden wings enveloping his, warm nights in Sumer on a rooftop. What he would give to have those things again, even for a moment.

"You know, I should've known something was up. Maybe if I'd called Naomi earlier, the traitor would be taken care of by now."

The words jarred Gadreel back to the present. What would Thaddeus know of Gabriel? There was no way he could have ever met the archangel—

"He was down here a few hours ago. Got as far as my desk. I tried to tell him this floor was off-limits, but he didn't listen. He started to come in here, and then he just stopped." Thaddeus looked down, resting the tip of the blade against Gadreel's jaw. "Wonder why he did that, hmm?"

Gadreel froze, couldn't think, couldn't feel anything beyond the panic in his heart. If Gabriel had come here, even attempted to visit him, it would be easy for anyone to make a connection, to implicate him as a traitor, as if leaving Heaven wasn't evidence enough. He couldn't let that happen, couldn't let all these millennia of imprisonment and torture be for naught. Not that there was much he could do from here. Thaddeus would never believe him, and the more he might protest, the more he might implicate Gabriel. So he did the only thing he could that had a chance of working, astronomical though it might have been.

He prayed. Not to their Father, whom Gadreel was unsure even listened any more. No, Gadreel prayed to Gabriel. He didn't know if it would work, or that it would reach him in time, but he had to try.

Thaddeus rambled on, too busy gloating to notice Gadreel's gambit for the moment. "It was cowardly of him, you know. All that time you spent in Sumer together, and he couldn't be bothered to visit or even say goodbye."

The once-Watcher shut his eyes, as though he could block out the words, and prayed harder. If there was one thing he could ever ask of his Father, it would be for Gabriel to hear him now.

His torturer shifted to tap his shoulder with the dull edge of the blade. "Hmm. Maybe he figured you had outlived your usefulness and wasn't worth his time." Thaddeus dragged the point down with a scant amount of pressure, drawing a thin, beady line of ichor from Gadreel's collarbone to abdomen.

"Or maybe he saw what Heaven has become, how everything is falling apart at the seams, and that _you're_ to blame for it. He wouldn't be wrong for that, now would he?"

Another slice, this one across his chest on a diagonal, deeper, cutting into more than just his vessel. Gadreel let out a strangled cry, but it wasn't enough to stop him or Thaddeus.

"Because that's it, isn't it? All of this _is_ your doing, Gadreel. You led that poor girl into Lucifer's hands to become the first demon, conspired with the nephilim to overthrow Heaven, and most of all you failed. Failed as a protector, a brother, and an angel. No wonder Gabriel couldn't stomach seeing you."

"No," Gadreel said, before he could stop himself. His voice was weak, and it only caused Thaddeus to laugh.

"But it's true. Your failure is going to bring about the end of the world. And Gabriel. Well." Thaddeus stuck something sharp into his side, sharper than an angel blade but lacking the requisite Grace to make it lethal. "You think Heaven is going to let another archangel go rogue? They'll catch Gabriel, and if Michael is feeling merciful, he'll be executed. If not, I can only imagine that he'll end up just. Like. You."

Gadreel couldn't help the scream that fought its way out of his throat as Thaddeus dug the instrument in deeper only to wrench it out moments later, tearing at his Grace. Thaddeus released his chains and stepped away, and Gadreel didn't have to see his face to know his torturer was wearing a smug expression.

The echoes of his cries faded away, revealing the quiet of the halls around him. There was only the drip of ichor upon stone and the lamentations for Gabriel that Gadreel wished he could tune out.

Unconsciousness dragged him down, and Gadreel let himself be pulled along, any fight he had in him long since gone. Before darkness overtook him, he uttered one last prayer, though he knew it was too late.

"Gabriel, please… be safe."

* * *

Gabriel didn't have much time. He had to find a vessel and hide before Heaven picked up on his absence and started looking for him.

And then he heard his name across his choir's channel, and it wasn't long before others joined in. Too late. Well, at least he knew how much time he had.

The voices were a distraction he couldn't afford, and Raphael or Michael could use his connection to the Host to track him down. He had to put up a wall and block them all out, as much as it hurt. Gabriel didn't have a choice.

Just before he finished putting the last piece of the wall into place, as the voices of the angels grew into an unbearable cacophony, there was one that stood out from the rest. It wasn't an attempt to connect to him, to talk; no, this was one-sided, an offering of words. A prayer.

He hesitated, though he knew he shouldn't have. There was no time. Besides, by all rights he didn't deserve to hear it. Gabriel had given up his chance to say goodbye, too consumed with guilt and cowardice to make those last few steps.

_Gabriel, wherever you are, please hear me._

“Gadreel.”

The archangel uttered the name aloud, even though the other angel wouldn't be able to hear him. Prisoners couldn't hear prayers.

No, he didn't deserve to hear this, not by a long shot. He owed Gadreel so much, a debt he could never repay even if they had all the time in the world. So perhaps the least he could do now was listen.

Most of Gadreel's prayer wasn't in words; just a jumble of emotions that said more than words could. He caught glimpses of the being behind them, could see the broken state of Gadreel's Grace, the result of almost four thousand years of “interrogation” by Heaven. Anger and shame swelled in Gabriel's being, until Gadreel spoke again.

_Please, don't—_

There was desperation in his voice, and the archangel feared what he might say next, because if Gadreel asked it of him, Gabriel would turn back around and stay. He would endure millennia more of misery in Heaven and watch his brothers tear each other apart, as he had since Lucifer's Fall, not to mention the suspicion that would follow him after this excursion; anything Gadreel asked him, he would do.

A sharp wave of pain flooded Gadreel's Grace before he could finish his request. Gabriel shoved away the remaining voices of the Host that he could hear, as though that would get him closer to Gadreel. His agony-filled scream was like a knife to Gabriel's being, and it took all of his strength to not fly back to Heaven and rip Thaddeus' wings to shreds.

The quiet that followed was too much to bear, and Gabriel willed Gadreel to say something, _anything_ before he did something that might get them both killed.

_Gabriel, please…_

By their Father, how he wanted to wrap his wings around Gadreel and heal him, piece both of them back together bit by bit, until they were more whole than they'd ever could've been apart.

_Be safe._

The tenuous connection severed; whether it was Gadreel's doing or some outside force, he couldn't tell. And for a moment Gabriel was back in that courtroom watching Gadreel get dragged away, both of them helpless and alone and aching.

Gabriel shoved the last piece of the wall into place and took flight again, weaving in odd patterns through cities and fields in an attempt to muddle his trail. That was a prayer he had to heed.

* * *

Gadreel closed his eyes, and he was flying. He'd dreamed about this so many times, about the wind ruffling his feathers, wings outstretched to their fullest extent as he soared over Earth. Forests, rivers, whole oceans passed beneath him in the blink of a human eye.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been about the time when Gadreel would have woken. Thaddeus was never keen on giving him more than a moment's rest. When he didn't, he tried waking himself, terror starting to claw at his throat. He was flying too fast, unable to stop, and then as the ground drew nearer Gadreel realized he wasn't flying at all. He was  _falling_.

His mind raced, trying to work out how he'd managed to escape his Heavenly prison, when he hit the ocean. Gadreel skipped along the water's surface, and it took all of his power to get his broken, threadbare wings to carry him to land.

Getting away from people seemed impossible in this part of the world, but Gadreel managed to find a secluded corner at a station of some kind without harming anyone, curling his Grace into himself to avoid any potential casualties. As he tried to get his bearings, the terrified voices of angels filtered into his mind for the first time in millennia, proof that he was not the only victim in whatever this was. All of that shifted out of focus when he noticed from the edge of his vision a soul brighter than the others, the light of it familiar and warm that would've been visible to any supernatural being from miles away. That light… Gadreel would know it anywhere, through time and space and all the ages of the world, he would.

_Gabriel_ . The archangel who'd escaped Heaven, the only one who could. The archangel Gadreel would—did—give up everything for. It took Gadreel a moment to see past that light and to see that the man containing was just that, a man. A rare man capable of playing host to an archangel, a true vessel of the highest order.

“Whatever you are, you can stop staring,” came the man's voice, louder than all the noise around them and even the angels in Gadreel's head, though he hadn't spoken aloud. “I mean, I can't see you, but I know you're there.”

“My apologies,” Gadreel said after a moment, averting his gaze as best he could. “It's just that your soul—”

The man cut him off with a laugh. “It's special, right? That's what my grandmother used to tell me. Said I reminded her of Coyote. From the tales she would tell me, I'm not sure that's a compliment.”

“He was good, despite his tricks.” Gadreel's spirit calmed, as he allowed himself to actually think of Gabriel for the first time in centuries. “I think he'd like you.”

“Are you okay? You sound pretty wrung out.” The man was looking in Gadreel's direction now, brow furrowed in concern.

Gadreel debated telling him the truth. Would it be right or fair of him to take Gabriel's vessel? More importantly, would it work? Then again, if the archangel needed the man, he would have done so by now. He tried not to dwell on that bit of information. “I am in need of assistance, a place to rest and some protection, if you would provide it.”

“I don't know how I can help or where I'm going, but…” He looked around, gesturing to the vehicle behind him that others were boarding. “You're welcome to come along.”

A drifter? Wandering Gadreel could do. Anything was better than being locked up in a cell, and being on the move might keep other angels from finding him. “Thank you.”

That Grace-bright bridge that Gadreel hadn't seen since the days humanity worshipped Enki and Enlil opened between them, and reaching out and settling into the man's body was like coming home, a home he hadn't known that he'd missed. A pang of guilt hit Gadreel then, as he realized he hadn't even asked the poor man's name before taking over his body.

Seeming to have sensed his thoughts, the man smirked in his very soul and said, “It's Gabriel.”


End file.
